Essence of winter sleep is on the night, the scent of apples...
Any guesses as to where Rebecca was at five this morning? She was lying in bed, eating chocolate chip cookie dough out of tub! And at five this evening, I was listening to my bad-ass Cajun grandma mumble to herself in French while she cooked pumpkin muffins. Not a bad day.
So far this weekend, we've turned off our air conditioning and turned on the heater, I've gotten out my thermal underwear again, and tomorrow we turn our clocks back an hour. I guess there's no more denying that winter is upon us. I still managed to ride my bike to the temple on Friday night, but it was so cold and dark, I don't know how long I'll be able to keep it up. Fortunately there was a dinner of lentil soup after the service (because we read the Torah portion where Esau trades his birthright for a bowl of lentils) that stuck to my ribs and kept me warm on the way home. I let Graycat in for part of the night, because it was so cold where he was sleeping on the stairs, but I had to put him out again when I started wheezing. Sable hasn't had hair in so long that I'd forgotten how much of a problem pet hair used to be for me.
Rebecca hates winter! *grumble grumble* Why is it that summer seemed to drag on forever, but fall was over before I could blink? Oh wait, because I live in Louisiana. In the final words of my Emily Dickinson calendar:
It can't be Summer! That got through!
Too early, yet, for Spring!
There's that long town of White to cross
Before the Blackbirds sing.