11.24.13  Finally, the weak sun begins to rise in the east.  It feels much colder than 19 degrees–probably the high humidity since freezing fog is predicted all next week.  Twenty-seven more days until the longest night on the Winter Solstice.  It will still look just like this come January 24th, however, as it seems the earth just freezes in her orbit after the Solstice.  There won’t be any difference in the light until the first week-end in February.  So, we are entering into the dark and the cold, for what feels like a very long time.  Don is sharpening his ice skates and waxing his skis, enthusiastically out the door by 6 a.m. to groom the trails.  I’ve ordered more good books, and the firewood is stacked high on the front porch.  Hunkering down.

There will be moments of light.  It was even colder yesterday, but the sun was brighter, and I tramped around in our woods, collecting snow berries, red willow branches, and pinecones, to add to the boughs I’d laid in the window boxes.  The kitties, so fat with their winter weight, bounded around with me in the woods, stopping to rest in a patch of sunshine.  It was a grand day to be outside.

And, here come the holidays.  There will be ten of us around my Thanksgiving table come Thursday and the house will be filled with family and friends for two nights.  I am so looking forward to the smells and warmth of it all.  And, soon, Christmas.  This may be the first time in my life in which I don’t know where or what we’ll be doing at Christmas.  The girls will all be in Mexico with their father, and it’s quite likely we will be needed at the bedside of Don’s father in Colorado.  I’m struggling with this at the moment, wondering if I’ll even catch the Christmas spirit.  Then again, I think it’s important to avoid Christmas Creep when we haven’t even celebrated Thanksgiving.  Looking at the sun this morning, stalled low in the sky, was a reminder to me to have a little patience.  To go with the flow.  To be here now.  And, then, it was evening…

4:45 p.m. and 29 degrees