It’s snowing again.

We had a warm week last week where things became misleadingly mild and the grass even greened up a bit, but we know better up here at the top of the little divide I live on than to trust any of that bullshit in early April. And sure enough, today is day three or four of cold icy snowy weather. The dog is miserable and keeps trying to avoid going out. Seriously. Here she is, dejectedly headed for her pen after I opened the door for her and watched her look at the snow and try to turn right around again without doing her business, at which point I sternly admonished her that She Has To Go Out At Least Once Today:

Hand to God, that dog would hold it for two days straight to avoid going out when it’s cold. The funny thing is, once the storm ends, she’ll want to spend hours out there rolling around in the snow, frolicking like a puppy. But if it’s actually precipitating on her, she acts like I’m torturing her when I send her out there. And this is only a little bit of snow. You should see her when it rains.

So, anyway. It’s snowing, and the roads have been icy, but it’s not like I’ve had a ton of places to go lately, so I guess it’s cool. Well, no. It’s not cool. There’s nothing about a pandemic one can actually call cool. But if we’re looking for silver linings, I guess not having to drive out into this week’s weather will have to do.

I’ve spent the day in my office working. Drinking coffee. Having a sandwich. Figuring out Venmo so I can pay my 16yo’s private music teacher without sending a check she has to take to a bank. Considering exercising. Below me are the sounds of the house when everyone is home and doing their own thing:

Someone has started a load of wash so there’s a spinning whine that dies out and then the washing machine chimes a cheerful little tune to signal that it’s done. There’s heavy-metal music thrumming and pounding its way up to me from the basement through the vents because my 16yo is lifting weights down there. From my 19yo’s room comes the occasional quiet noise of an online class or conversation. My husband is keeping an eye on his email in his office while also fixing and restringing an electric guitar, so for a while there’s the sound of a small drill (or sander?) followed by this thin twanging sound coming from that room while he plays chords, and the occasional explosion of a mad riff, without being connected to an amp. Periodically, the heater kicks on so there’s a slight sound of air blowing up from the vent at my feet. (Every so often I hover my feet directly over that air to warm them.)

All of this is pockmarked by little dings and ring tones from my phone as people on social media react to the news of the day. Then the sound of the shower across the hall from me as one of the kids gets around to that, and it occurs to me now, at four in the afternoon, that I never did bother to get dressed today. And if I don’t exercise soon, I’ll never get to it at all.

Just another snowy day. Just like any other springtime snowy day. Except there are more people here than usual. But they’re people I love, and they’re home and safe and healthy so far. And it almost reminds me of the cozy days when the kids were little and we’d do schoolwork through the morning, watching the snow come down, and then go out for some sledding afterwards. Almost.