I woke up this morning to the sound of wind howling against the windows. It was cold in the room, so I curled up beneath the covers and listened. I could hear my husband in the kitchen, dutifully grinding up the coffee beans and getting my essential morning beverage into the brew stage. Eventually, I got up too. I quickly put on a somewhat threadbare bathrobe. It still keeps me warm, though. The hubby was off to visit the dentist by the time I wandered into the kitchen to pour my first of many cups.
Man, when it decides to snow in New England, it isn’t kidding. I grew up in Western New York, another notorious location for snow, so I know my white stuff. I eventually made my way outside, en route to a physical therapy appointment (my knees are getting old, along with the rest of me). I noticed that my front porch collection – candles, stone owl and the rest – were snowy but otherwise undisturbed. I’m impressed.
I decided to go for a very short foray outside, to get some air and exercise. I’ll have to do that more, but with a bit off additional layering on the inside. It’s cold out, baby.