Like he has everyday since he was 16 years old, this morning Mr. Right left for work. He left an hour early, so at 5 am he was out the door. In all those years, he has taken one, yep, ONE sick day. So staying home was not an option in his mind. We happen to live in the Pacific Northwest. He works in Seattle. His commute is about 64 miles round trip. Today, we are experiencing one of the worst snowstorms in recent memory. In our little community, we have about 8 inches of snow with it coming down pretty heavily as I type.
Mr. Right just phoned from work. It is now 8:51 am. He is headed home.
I pray he will be safe as well as the other drivers.
As not to fret too much and keep myself busy, apples are frying in a black iron skillet. The scent is just plain old cinnamon apple goodness. I am making apple turnovers. I want him to smell them even before he opens that door. The moment he walks through that door, I want him to feel relief and grace. I want him to instantly feel relaxed and I want his mouth to water. I want the turnovers to be dripping with icing and warm and comforting. I have the platter ready and the jaunty place mat they will be presented on.
Knowing it is tough for him to surrender, admit defeat and come home I really want him to feel like he made the right choice. I have homemade soup warming on the back burner.
Maybe instead of sitting down to his computer and working the rest of the day, he will see the look in our brown-eyed Golden Retriever’s eyes and go play in the snow? Maybe we can build a big old snowman. (I just happen to have a carrot placed outdoors by the back door.)
My gorgeous red snowboots are ready and waiting.
We will of course Say Grace and dig in.