Spring break wrap-up

I drove to school today under a light, misty rain.

Yesterday was glorious.

Spring is coming. I can feel it. Smell it. Taste it.

I can't wait.

My weeklong break has brought me many things, some good and some bad.
I had time to arrange things.

I had time to make glorious cake plates and felt crafty for the first time in my life.

I had time to spend with Jason.

Time to read The Book Thief. Time to take Winston on a walk, and paint the mirror in my bedroom. Time to fix a roast. Time to visit my parents.
Time, time time.

But I also had time to get a cold-- a terrible cold-- the kind that wracks your body with violent coughing in the middle of the night, makes the outside of your nostrils bleed  from incessant nose blowing, and forces the victim to carry toilet paper around everywhere. For the last four and a half days, I've been appalling strangers with my mind-blowing sneezes and the subsequent honking noise that comes from my nose. No one seems too keen on getting close to me these days, but it's okay. Thanks to spring break, I slept when my head hurt. And if I didn't want to be seen in my red nose and paint-splattered pajamas, I could stay in because I had nowhere to go and no obligations.
Most significantly, I ate a whole pot of soup all by myself.
Conversely, Winston's recent surgery didn't seem to slow him down too much. In fact, though still loopy and unable to maintain his balance, he was nearly bouncing off the walls only an hour or so after we brought him home.
I was sorely disappointed.
Despite this, Winston is an excellent napping buddy. Once we get him to settle down (usually by putting him in what Jason lovingly refers to as "the cave"-- which consists of one or both of us piling blankets on his head and then lying on top of him) he can sleep soundly for hours on end. It begins as a struggle; a mad tangle of hands holding him down and loud purring. It ends with the entirely limp body of a cat occassionally punctuated with twitches-- a sure sign that he is sleeping and not smothered to death.
After spring break it might be appropriate for most people to say that they are returning to the grindstone of school, but, as my one class can hardly constitute as such, I will say "dang it!" to the end of the break in traditional form, but not really. The curse is only halfhearted. I may not be quite as lazy this week as I was last, but Winston and I will continue to take naps when my head hurts; after the struggle, our arms interlocked in an eternal embrace.