The kids' schools are closed for Monday, as are both of our offices. Everything's closed, really. Good thing we have nowhere to be.
We prepared for the storm, hoping like always that it will all be unnecessary. We didn't lose power through the derecho or Commuteaggedon or Snowmaggedon. But I bought batteries and crackers and lots of scotch tape, because if we're going to be stuck in the house for multiple days, there will undoubtedly be child-initiated crafting. We keep lots of art supplies at their ready reach so that they can be artistic on a whim, and the key to their self-sufficiency, and perhaps one of my primary secrets of motherhood, is always have a supply of scotch tape.
The emotional atmosphere in DC is somewhere between strident and panicked. Truly, Sandy is a menacing storm and I don't want to minimize the damage that's sure to come. We're going to struggle under downed trees bringing with them downed wires and flooding and the possibility that if streetlights are not on, trick-or-treating will likely be cancelled.
But we get a magnificent day tomorrow, the five of us, no place to go and nobody who could come to us, and it feels like a gift. And I'm guessing right now that we'll all be home on Tuesday, too, and possibly Wednesday. And I know all this makes many people very, very nervous. But I'm filled with a quiet contentment. It's a surprise vacation, a gift.