The World in White

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It’s Sunday in Leeds. Sunday morning in our household is usually a lazy affair. We have a ‘lay in’ (as the British folk say) and eventually force ourselves up at around the 10am mark. At which time a particular chain of events is sparked. If I have calls to make back home, I settle in with a cup of tea and begin the skype rounds. If I’ve missed the time window in which it’s okay to call home, I might laze about with the paper for a few hours and putter around the house before cajoling myself that I read should go outside at least once in the day and convince myself I’ll go for a run. Meanwhile, Adam will inevitably have gotten out of bed, shovelled down his massive cereal bowl, donned his soccer gear and headed out to play his weekly match.

This Sunday started in the usual fashion. Lying in bed, I’m thinking ‘Right. Really must run today’ and I imagine Adam thinking ‘Right. Really must get up now. Going to be late for the game’ and as we’re both about to commence our Sunday, there is a text on the mobile saying ‘No football today. Frozen pitch’. This lulls us both back into a reverie. My thoughts shift to ‘Hmm. Could go for a run later instead’ while Adam promptly turns himself over, picks up a book, and gets himself comfy for what is to be a very lazy Sunday morning indeed.

Not too long after this, my conscience wins the battle. And while I don’t leap up and immediately put on my running gear, I do a least get out of bed and head to the shower with the best of intentions to run later in the day. Standing in our bathroom, something outside the frosted glass window gets my attention. To be more accurate, lots of ‘little somethings’ draw me closer as I stand thinking ‘No, it couldn’t be’. So I race out to the living room, bare feet tapping the floorboards, and press my nose up against the glass. And alas, it is. Snow. I head back to our bedroom and open up the blinds, forcing Adam to stand up and look out at the world in white. He feigns excitement briefly, only to placate me, before he hops back into bed, rolls over and settles himself in. Undeterred, my excitement is more than enough for both of us. I immediately begin to plan for snowmen and snow angels and hearing that wonderful sound of snow crunching underfoot.

And so today, for the whole of our day, there has been a blanket of snow four inches deep. Our world in white is beautiful. I am right now going to head back out and play in the snow on my way to the store to get some red wine and oranges to make a pot of mulled wine. Days like this are definitely mulled wine days in our home. To say I am delighted is an understatement. It has been a perfect weekend. Yesterday we sat in a café, sun streaming through the window warming my back, in one of my favourite places in the world, Saltaire. Home to a huge salt mill housing an art book store, home store, antique store and numerous cafes with other arty boutique stores flowing out onto the high street, I can spend hours and hours in this place (and I’ve been known to!)

While yesterday we sat eating homemade soup and cake enjoying the sunshine dancing across the room and the background of blue sky, today I am in raptures having woken up to our world of white. Completely unexpected but to be embraced nonetheless. This is why we are here after all. To embrace the unexpected. After kicking off 2010 with illness, travel woe and a vandalised car we have no doubt about that the unexpected can be wholly unwanted. But then there is the other side of the coin, there are weekends like this. Weekend that shake us out of our reverie and bring so many pleasures.

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