cold, cold heart
I have yet to have a love affair with winter. And after six-plus decades, I doubt it will ever happen. Oh, we start off strong enough each autumn, my sitting in front of the fireplace with a glass of wine and a great book. Those first, fluffy snowflakes always make me nostalgic, and hold my hand right into the holidays.
But come January 1, winter and I break up. If it had a Facebook page, I would unfriend it. Maybe it does. Maybe I will. Especially on a day like this when, after a Tuesday in shirt sleeves, Wednesday starts with rush-hour sleet and spits rudely like a three-year-old I once knew 😉 (and still love, Kate.)
So today, when I was feeling no love for the cold, I got a quick phone call from my family-and-friend Brooke saying she and her son Rowan had just left an ice sculpture for me on my front porch. You can see it above. And the way the weather looks at the moment, I’ll probably be able to see it for some time, too.
You made my (wintry) day.