Staying close to home in cold weather has many benefits, ample portions of each.
Very cold and a wind chill that is reminiscent of my childhood; fierce, face-freezing, effing cold. No global warming. Not here, not today.
Yesterday was a very productive day – my 2nd in a row without starting my vehicle, hunkered, cozy, no time wasted in slippery traffic. Just productivity, quiet times, hot soup for lunch, and scrumptious stew for dinner. The ebb and flow of work, rest, sleep, work, rest, sleep. Several phone calls, relaxed, just the right length. And many email conversations too, more productive than usual and more prompt responses than usual because everyone is hunkered at home or office – in a cozy heated box.
Appointments made or rescheduled for lunches and coffees next week and the week after; it seems everyone is in a similar mood for not venturing out, making plans for warmer days – and with more time than usual to talk.
Yesterday was excellent reflection time, catching up with several people in long conversations; it seems to me that being shut-in relaxes people, allows more time for relaxed useful discussion vis-à-vis those rapid-fire rushed ones we most often have.
Yesterday a card arrived in the mail – lovely, thank you to the sender – taking time to write kind and lovely sentiments a bit, time to think a bit.
And the stew I made was excellent. So often, when I’m home all day, I tend to not exercise, and then I end up eating too much – which is not consistent with my goals, so I have become more mindful of my portion size.
I had just the right amount in a bowl.
And my second and third helpings were also exactly the right portion size.
I was thinking about those conversations – also bigger portions than usual; and that handwritten card much larger than a usual email reply or a text, and a long evening conversation to constructively and calmly solve a lingering problem.
Today is time to venture out – return to routine, places to go, appointments to keep – and acclimatize to square tires and traffic snarls I’ll be remembering the apt words of W.O. Mitchell who once described winter driving in Calgary as “Moving from a heated box to heated box in a heated box.”