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…