Muzzy

Floating in fluffy clouds, disjointed. Fingers dance on a keyboard, grasping for words that sit at the edge of my mind. I have never been very good at staying in for a whole day of lounging around. As much as I love the pyjama pants, the movies, the reading of books, the snuggling and the general comfy feeling of being at home on a winter’s day, I reach a point of headachy grumpballness. The need to stretch and prance about gulping lungfuls of fresh air outweighs my desire to stay curled up cat like amongst the covers. I find myself yearning to be outside amongst the snow. Dancing face upturned, as the snowflakes glide gently down catching themselves in my hair, my eyelashes, flitting about on the tip of my nose, placing soft icy kisses on my lips. The yen grows, and I find myself shedding homey accoutrements, pulling on warm clothes, digging out my woollen mittens, coat and hat. Soon I’ll glide down the stairs, the door will only be a step away, soon I will dance with the ice fairies.