It is still snowing. Nine inches of it. Fresh and untouched, piling softly and steadily outside. The world is brilliantly white and all day I’ve been awed by the gentle wonder of this storm.
We put the girls down early tonight and I’ve been sitting by the fire, reading from a favorite book about Advent. (Believe me, this is the first time I’ve sat by a fire and read anything since the boys were born. It feels luxurious.)