My Hubster rocks. Not only has he gone above and beyond for me, making sure I rest and not do anything stupid, he actually got it to snow.
You see, grey, cold, horrible weather where one needs to be sitting next to a fire all day while stew bubbles away on top of the woodstove, is my kind of weather.
Watching the snow flakes fall from the sky in a hurried frenzy, like they are late for a most important meeting, is my kind of rush hour.
Listening to Typhon sing along with the rhythm of the wind, his tune muffles by the gusts, is my kind of music.
And the fact that I've been enjoying all this from behind a book on the couch is even better.
There I sit, wrapped in a blanket, book perched on my knees, when Hubster arrives with a steaming cup of tea for each of us. He makes a place next to me and we sit, sipping that warmth, watching the snow.