Past the cheminee to the arbor is eternity when it snows.
I’d give you moonlight if I could. But in the country when it’s dark it’s dark. One of the great beautiful things about the country. Sometimes the winter night is a clamp. No light allowed.
No need for fear. Time for deep, hibernating sleep. The hard thing is waking up. Comes a time when the sun returns and you groan and roll over because the dark is easier. But then, if you’re lucky, the deerhound pounces oh so gently on you to insist that it’s time for breakfast and another day.
Time to get up, boss.
But when it’s really dark, Raebert sleeps in too. We’re snowed in. And we’ll sleep in to enjoy it.
Hope you all are getting along well. No snow down here, but it sure is cold. Not as cold as it is up there, I’m sure, but I’m doing my best to empathize.
No thoughts on Sunday’s football games, btw?
My inside source, whose daughter is an SI journalist, says Denver wins outright. I’m hiding under the couch hoping Denver wins.