It's snowing hard this morning, and it's supposed to snow and sleet and rain all day long. So because of the storm and because it's Saturday and because I am a comfort-loving hausfrau, I am lighting the wood stove for what may be our final all-day fire of the season. Truly, nothing takes the sting out of a March clipper like a beautiful log fire, though it is odd to be tucked up next to the flames and the warmth while also listening to robin song pour from the snow-decked maples. The weather may be nasty, but the birds stay focused on matters of spring.

The little house is at its best right now . . . the rooms are snug, the flames dance, a bouquet of bright Gerbera daisies on the mantle teases thoughts of summer. Upstairs my beloved sighs and sleeps as the cat tucks behind his knees. I cannot wish to be anywhere else.

This is my last quiet weekend before the onslaught of April. So today I'll do some baking. I'll work on poem drafts. I'll read. I'll watch a little basketball and listen to a little baseball. I'll doze. I'll play card games with Tom and banter with the cat. I wouldn't have requested a spring snowstorm, but now that it's here, I'll enjoy the benefits. A day of putter and space, a day of dreaminess. Vive la snow day.