I am thankful for a furnace which kicks on, a coffee pot brewing magically in the wee hours of the morning, a comfortable chair, an endless stack of books…
Oh versatile winds and talented gales; carry on in your seasonal way while we shudder and scramble for the woolen blanket, the forgotten sweater, the knitted cap.
Caught off guard and balanced precariously between Canada’s border and the fickle Great Lakes…commence to hunker down as the sunshine is brightly colder…
690 Saint Paul 