The drear end of February

As I type this, the Twin Cities are bracing for a rather large amount – like, stay home for the next two days if you at all possibly can, large – of snow. I’m lucky enough to work from home, and set my own schedule so my errands are done and my hatches are battened. Things will be pretty much normal, except for the snowfall.

I considered, briefly, before looking again at my deadlines, taking the two days as a weekend. Time off, to just cook, and read and enjoy the quiet that seems to come with any large enough amount of snow. But deadlines, and work from home, and things will be pretty much normal. So I’ll work.

But in considering, I wondered about snow storm books. I have talked before in these essays about seasonal rereads, or reading for comfort. And yet, I realized that I don’t really have winter books. Solstice yes, but not winter in the sense of cold and snow, and certainly not the in the sense of the drear end of February, when seeing a white-coated world has switched from “Oh, how lovely” to “Ugh, this again.”