dormez, bebe; vertical, a pile, olfactory

*I read the twitters of a very tired mother and send good vibes and love to her.

*Just as I ask the weather forecast I can say it myself for out the window vertical snow (horizontal would mean wind additionally)is falling and continues until the street lights go on and make the flakes glisten.

*Sitting in our usual Sunday chairs at the bookstore engrossed in my top-of-the-pile book I glance up to see him similarly engrossed in a book from an equally tall pile.

*When we choose Sunday chairs they are just far enough from the bakery to ignore my chocolate desires but deliciously close enough to fascinate my olfactory sense.

juice, coffee, day off +

*Crisp apple juice.

*Grinding coffee in the market--the freshness follows me into the car for the drive home. Even after I put it into the kitchen the car retains the wonderful coffee smell, a plus for being forced to keep the car windows closed in the cold weather.

*As I take a day off from my desk I realize that I've become too engrossed in some projects. It's like I stepped away and can get a better perspective of all the tatty paperwork which covers my spindly folding table desks.

(*He bought me a reissued cartoon collection that we both grew up reading. I haven't looked through them but enjoy his laughter and "I remember this one" as he reads them.)

fishbowl, lap baby, streets

*I work on something till my eyes are dry and stinging. Look up. And see it has become dark outside and my work at my desk a fishbowl in front of the open blinds.

*Connecting with someone about a family photo in which her ancestor is a month old baby on his mother's lap.

*The holiday has slowed down the city so that the streets are quiet--I can drive and look around without worry that I'll run into something.

giggle, layers, nose bag

*I don't look forward to a trip to the dentist (even for a mere cleaning) but the lounge/exam chair is so comfy and the view through the austere (no fancy drapery) window of the mountains is lovely. Then the dentist and his assistant begin singing along to the radio tunes and I can hardly keep from giggling. Try to suppress a giggle with your mouth yawning wide and ten fingers (someone else's) inside.

*Marveling again how the mountains and foothills present themselves in layers:scrub bushes dusted with snow,then purple-grey and on to the tallest blanketed in thick white.

*Finally having oatmeal breakfast to a chorus of the dog crunching a mid-morning snack. "Oh, if you're going to eat I'll have a little something, too."

biscuits, soup, back

*Warm biscuits made from scratch with...

*Leek-potato-broccoli soup and...

*a returned hero.

sketching, flakes, fraps

*Kate sketches me without me noticing.

*We cut out snowflakes together--the method returning after years of neglect.

*I make fraps but am so involved in the conversation that I forget to put in the sugar.

packet, literate, watch

*I receive a thick packet from the National Archives.I had been cautioned that the process of finding the file I wanted, copying it and sending it might take 6 months but it has only been 6 weeks. When I open the envelope I am transported back to 1871 when ancestors filed legal papers to enable them to receive a pension of their son mortally wounded in the War of the Rebellion. I learn they could not read or write, they are destitute. Their son was their sole support. And I learn that Joseph was wounded in both knees at the Battle of Missionary Ridge in late November, 1863, and died in a field hospital in Chatanooga on December 13. To know what happened to him is a mother's relief.

*To be able to read and write, to have been taught as a young girl.

*I leave Zed's watch to be cleaned and repaired. "I will always take care of you" I whisper.