I expected to spend the evening alone in my apartment, but instead I ended up sitting around with the Monson Arts chef and her husband and one of the resident artists, drinking red wine, eating lamb and greens, and having an unexpectedly social night. It was a lovely surprise, as was the long intense sleep I fell into afterward.

And so here I am, the next morning, lolling and yawning, in no hurry at all to get up and get going. Yes, I've got a full day of teaching ahead and a long drive home, but there is a holiday pleasure in not leaping out of bed at 5 a.m. and hurtling directly into chores.

The battery on my laptop is running down, so I will end this note and coax myself out of bed and into the shower and onto my workday. And when I step outside a faint scent of spring will rise from the grimy snowpack.