Last night the wind blew so fiercely I could hear things tearing off the house and whipping across the yard. There was rain, then snow, then rain. This morning the steps were slippery, but the snow on my skylight did not mean loads of shovelling. I am grateful. I have mono. I am not up for shovelling.

This morning as I prepare to start the day care day on my own, Liana away for training, I hear bird song. They are chirping like it is spring. The sun has melted the snow from the sidewalk and I only had to slip the small shovel across the shaded steps and to scrape the windshield to start my day. The compost is on the counter from the blustery afternoon, but in the sunshine, I can take it out, see the destruction in the yard, small sand tray of vehicles tossed across the porch, another downspout down and laying in the gutter, but the compost is there unfrozen, and now my kids are here, too, more sunshine and birdsong, and enough energy inside me to do the day.

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