This is snowball and snowman snow, the best kind.
If our tiny house has ever looked more charming, I can’t imagine when. It even has two of my three children sleeping in it, for extra value, two cute cats, hot coffee, and soon it will include pancakes and my handsome lover.
My heart is tugged. I look at this Rockwellian scene and cannot imagine ever leaving it. Yet I do, and I am; this very night in fact. I’ve got bead kits to wrap in sparkly paper and ship: it is a mission. If that mission just happens to have an accompanying weather forecast of 70/50F tomorrow, ah well. What can I do except frolic?
I’ll be back here in a week, though, and here into the New Year, laying out book pages, playing chess with Evan, drawing with Liam, kissing Bill.
Last year the boys made a Roman bust snowman. I can’t wait to see what they do today.
In a true dinobird moment, just after I took this shot, I saw what looked like ostrich tracks behind me, but I think that they were actually from the red-tailed hawk I keep seeing in this hackberry tree.
And I know I’m slow out of the gate, but that pile of sticks up there that I thought was a squirrel nap station…. well. Hmm. I admit the possibility that it might be a hawk nest. I just don’t know. I’m bringing my binocs back for Christmas. I’m am aware that the bird will not welcome my prying; he is not one of my cute little Cooper’s Hawk chicken-friends in Tucson.
I’ll try to do most of my snooping from the kitchen window, being careful not to turn our hawkberry back into just a hackberry.
This is our incoming power line, perfectly round, like an electric snow-hose.
Another fine edition of you
A pin-up done in shades of blue
Enjoy your weekend… however you spend it.