I miss the sun. Mable misses the sun too–there she is up there, lurking behind the curtain in search of a stray beam to cash out in. It’s been raining and cold and damp and soggy and sodden and chilly and flat here for days on end which is good for the ground but not so good for this girl. Grace has been looking up at Drew and me when we take her out as if it’s our fault that she’s getting rained on, and despite our best efforts she just doesn’t seem to understand that we’re getting wet and cold too. The bright side of a rainy winter is that there’s so much warmth to be had. Fires and comfort food and baking and steamy stoves and hot baths and tea and coffee and comforters and books about the tropics and down vests and soft sweaters. I hate being cold, but oh how I love getting warm. Cross your fingers though, ok? We need to remember what that strange ball in the sky feels like on a turned up face.