Winter nights are long, but they are never long enough. All day I look forward to crashing on my couch with a book, my laptop, a crochet project, a movie (and yes, sometimes even American Idol). Winter evenings are the reward I earn after long summer evenings spent canning and freezing (and even longer holiday evenings spent shopping and cooking). There are never enough of those few precious hours on my couch (which, I suppose, is what makes them so precious).
Every day I whine inwardly, feeling sluggish and suffering an unquenchable thirst for caffeine. I promise myself that tonight is the night I'm going to get to bed early and catch up on my sleep. But night falls and suddenly I'm awake, excited about all of the possibilities that await me on my couch. I love those quiet hours when my kids are asleep and I'm left to my own devices. I have books to read, mittens to crochet, and blogs to scan! I'm alone. Oh, Dave is home doing his winter night things. (In child development this is called "Parallel Play". Sometimes I wish we never outgrew this stage.) Others complain about it getting dark too early. Not me. Bring on the cozy night, the cold, the wind and the snow.
Every day I whine inwardly, feeling sluggish and suffering an unquenchable thirst for caffeine. I promise myself that tonight is the night I'm going to get to bed early and catch up on my sleep. But night falls and suddenly I'm awake, excited about all of the possibilities that await me on my couch. I love those quiet hours when my kids are asleep and I'm left to my own devices. I have books to read, mittens to crochet, and blogs to scan! I'm alone. Oh, Dave is home doing his winter night things. (In child development this is called "Parallel Play". Sometimes I wish we never outgrew this stage.) Others complain about it getting dark too early. Not me. Bring on the cozy night, the cold, the wind and the snow.
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