About eight inches of snow here topped with a lovely crust of ice, with more freezing rain on the the way. What the week will look like is anyone’s guess. But for the moment, we’re enjoying being inside. I’m cleaning up my office (an unnatural disaster), taking breaks to play some slow, aching blues on Red, the Strat. Deb’s making Christmas cookies, only some of which will escape the house alive. R.E.M. is cranked through our massive, old speakers, the bass shaking the house(there is great joy in huge cones that can remind you of where all your fillings are), and the parrot is singing along. The dog is hiding.
In less than a month, Bush will be history. Which is where he belongs.
Out the windows, finches, juncos, chickadees, and bushtits are covering the feeders.
I think I’m gonna survive 2008 after all. As long as the food holds out.