19 degrees.
The wind has been howling since morning.
A day where anything that’s not tied down outside…
…will likely end up someplace you’d rather it not be.
Toasty radiators. I call them RADD-iators :) …and often get made fun of for doing so.
Finn’s alongside, breathing heavy and shifting rooms as I do — always close by my feet.
The leaded glass windows are crying their own winter tears.
Mady’s at the mall with a friend.
The boys are in the basement, TV on and a device for good measure.
Sara’s painting her bedroom closet.
The remnants of chicken stew are on the stovetop…
…settling in our bellies and making me consider a fourth helping
…and perhaps another nip of whiskey.
H O M E on a winter’s day…
