Quiet Weekends

Yes, I still have a blog.
No, I did not flush myself down the toilet.
And no, I do not have any even half-good reasons for why I have been ignoring my blog for so long, so I won't even go there.

I am looking out at a snow covered driveway and icicles dripping off the porch roof. The snow flakes are drifting lazily to the ground, without a care in the world. A little like me at this moment. Except for the fact that I feel insanely guilty about not writing so here I am writing. But I think it is good for me to write, to just talk about what's going on and maybe reflect a litte on life. (I can't promise anything too deep or insightful.)

My parents have been gone this weekend on a skiing trip. I surprised myself at how relaxed I am, and how comfortable I am with no parents and a relative stranger in my house. Granted, she is a very nice stranger. She likes to cook, doesn't mind doing the dishes (!), and is totally cool with sitting in silence while doing homework or watching the Olympics. So all in all, a very nice stranger. Who isn't really a stranger at all.

I am dreading the return of a busy life tomorrow, when I drive to my doctor. (An hour and a half away, through the snow. In the small, cramped space of a car.) But it is always easier to do irritating things if you have something nice to think about, a little happy place you can take yourself back to.

The heater is on. The dishwasher is silent, having completed its task. The nice, (not) stranger is quietly rocking in the chair, chewing gum. I am typing away, the backspace key making more noise then most. The neighbor is sweeping her driveway. And I am in a good mood.