Winter is cold. This is really no surprise to me or to Abbot, but I've noticed that the chill in the air keeps a lot of people in their homes....my maker included. She goes out when she has to but it's a process when she does. Boots, hats, coats, scarves, and mittens, all serve their purpose in the winter months. It's almost as if the donning of these articles of clothing becomes a habitual ritual. And time must be allotted for putting it on and taking it off, and finding a place to store it all. I've been around long enough to know that it is not cold all over the world. In fact, there are some places on the earth that never get cold....and stay rather hot. But I am not sure I would like a place like that. Not to LIVE anyway. Even though it is cold and snowy it seems to offer folks a chance to hunker down and do some things that maybe they don't have time for when it's warm out, such as reading, writing, thinking, and playing games. This makes the warmer months seem like a gift, like a special present to look forward to. We can dream about bare feet and warm sunshine, of flowers and leaves, of robins and wildlife. Everything that sleeps in the winter gets to wake up again for the first time.
Ned, Nina, Abbot and I have been doing a lot of that dreaming. We spend hours telling each other our stories and dreams. We have also been enjoying playing games, and we made up a few of our own. There have been some arguments over the rules, and Abbot is not happy when he loses, but generally we've been getting along swimmingly. And even though I look forward to the warmer months ahead, I can't help but feel cozy when we all snuggle up in bed at night, surrounded by oodles of blankets and pillows, and each other. My maker tucks us in, kisses our noses, and says goodnight. There is just something so familiar and safe to it, when all the lights are out and the moon shines in the window, like nothing else matters. Like there is nothing that can take it away.
Until next time.