Cashmere and snow

So, it’s snowing today, and it’s lovely. I think that in all the time I’ve lived up here (a grand total of five years) it’s snowed EVERY year, and I’ll never get tired of it. Having grown up in California, snow falling from the sky will never cease to amaze me. And for that first night, before I have to try to drive anywhere in it, it’s beauty is simply astounding. It’s like you can hear Robert Frost, “walking through the woods on a snowy evening” and you know exactly what he spoke of. You know just how he felt standing at the woods, in the silent, silent snow, wondering which way to go. Granted, I felt that way walking to my mailbox, but magical nonetheless. And for the last two days, I’ve had “let it snow” and “white christmas” running through my head, which makes me want to do nothing more than set up my new, faux, prelit “giftmas” tree (or Hannukah bush, or what have you), watch white christmas, read polar express to my daughter and generally bask in the loveliness of the season. But alas, I have school work to do. Papers to write and finals to study for. So here I sit, blogging, procrastinating my homework.

As for the cashmere part of the post…I love cashmere. Really and truly I do. There is nothing more lovely than a soft, fuzzy cashmere sweater on a crispy, magical snowy day. And apparently, my daughter agrees. She spent the better part of the afternoon and evening petting me and trying to rest her head on my sweater. She cuddled up and tried to find a comfy spot to sleep on me, to the point that I almost thought I should take my sweater off and let her sleep with it, but I am selfish, and I was warm, and I didn’t want to take it off. I did however, make her a pair of cashmere pants out of an old sweater the other day, and I think I shall make her a blankie out of the rest of the sweater. She’ll like that, I think. I’ll wrap it up for a giftmas gift.

On another RE note…her darling-ness is simply the sweetest thing sometimes. As she fell off to sleep tonight, and babbled to herself (a quiet little dadadadadada) she played with my hair. She does this sometimes, just twisting and playing with it as she drifts off. I always find it the sweetest little thing.

I commented to some friends tonight that her hugs and cuddles just mean so much more now. Sure, it was lovely when she was teeny and did nothing but snuggle all day, but now that she can make her own decision as to whether or not she hugs and cuddles, it is just more meaningful.

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