The sky looks angry, and for good reason. Winter, on route to us since December, got mighty lost on the way and ended up in Budapest by mistake. After many planes, trains and automobiles, she was probably too wiped out to go on to her full destiny/destination. No wonder it’s been in the 40s and 50s (even the 60s) so often this January and February.
All that is about to change. Winter’s coming, and she’s none-too-happy about the delay. Snow — maybe just a smattering, followed by some freezing rain is on its way.
Of course, the snow is supposed to turn to ice at the same time my plane is supposed to leave, but that’s tomorrow. For today, I’ve prepared: I drank a mug of hot cocoa, took a hot bath with eucalyptus salts, dressed myself entirely in fleece (seriously although I didn’t have fleece underwear), and threw some chicken and vegetable in the Schlemmertopf to make us a winter-accommodating feast in 60-90 minutes.
Looking over the edge of this computer to see my purple-fleece-covered toes, and behind them, the cat asleep on the down comforter, I feel very fortunate, and I can only wish others in the path of oncoming winter are adorned in, surrounded with and soon to fed by warmth and light.