It's snowing tiny flakes just now and at 2:30 pm it feels like night. Dec 21st - the shortest day of the year and James always looks forward to it with anticipation as tomorrow the days start getting longer. Yeh!!!!
I think we are almost safely into our quiet, reclusive Christmas. I got up this morning with grand intentions of going in to town to find an elusive gift for my mom to put under the tree at Swan Valley Lodge.It's so hard to shop for someone who doesn't need (or want) anything. I buy her cut flowers because if I bring a plant she promptly gives it away, lest it die! When you're 87 you deserve fresh flowers all the time. My resolve melted with the falling snow and we're just staying warm.
James has been racking wine. We will have lovely berry wine on the deck next summer. I should be baking something (she said unenthusiastically). The lasitude of the season is upon us. I want biscotti but I need to bake something softer for James first.
My sister visited recently and brought eyelash yarn for a shawl but I can't see the stitches when I crochet it. It is the joy of growing old!
The cats are not happy about our weather. Bandy sits at the door with his ears at an irritated angle and if I open the slider for him he looks insulted. Little Skeeter is such a faithful hunter that she has to go out for a bit every day but she's not impressed either.
Well, back to the football game! That's what this weather is good for.