They say it’s -26 this morning, feels like -34…it’s so white and crystals hang in the air. Everything out the morning window is still, only one man scraping his windshield madly before I came up the stairs to write. It looks like most people tucked their vehicles into their garages last night. My van shivers, piled high with crusty snow.
I shoveled the walk three times yesterday. The snow just kept coming…several drives had to be done during the day and evening and I clenched the steering wheel as so many others, hoping to get home again safely. It’s been a shock of winter come upon us and we won’t be seeing sunshine until Wednesday perhaps. The cold temperatures will remain with us for the week. I am starved for colour anyway, and this makes it more difficult.
Another stack of stories read and I must admit that I got my nose into a James King biography on Margaret Laurence. Oh my…it’s so beautiful! I wish that I could pour over historical fiction every day. I love books, as I do writing.