There is nothing sweeter than the very earliest days of winter. Still, not a layer of snow has made home on the ground. Instead thick layers of frost coat branches and grass in the morning, and fade only in the sunlit spots by late afternoon. Coho and I curl up on the couch and read books and play. Well... she plays. I scold her for biting too hard and then persuade her to quit playing and lay down for a belly rub instead. Of course, then she insists I continue until eventually she decides it's time to go outside and play in the cold by herself. The woodstove crackling in the morning is becoming more and more welcoming- and although I still have a few tasks to do before snow breaks- I'm beginning to be quite fond of the idea of the white stuff arriving.
