But at least it's sunny. That's the only salvation when it's this cold, the kind of cold that freezes your nose and hurts to breathe. It makes people hunch their shoulders and try to curl in on themselves even when they're indoors. The sun's out there shining, tempting people to come out to bathe in the warming rays, and you open the door and it's like hitting a brick wall of cold and the rays are not warm, they're just bright. It's supposed to be in the mid-30s early next week too. What's up with that?!? It's February, people, make up your mind. I have a black wool pullover that's really too big for me but it's warm. I wore it to work yesterday and I'm wearing it again today. I don't care how dorky I look, I'll be warm, and I'm considering casting on another pair of mitts just because my hands are cold right now. I think I will, you can never have too many pairs of wool mitts, and these I'll make more colorful because I'm a colorful person, aren't I?
February 8--Clara Louise Roscoe, Crazy Quilt. Sophie loved to cuddle up in her Nana's big bed under the silk quilt and listen to a story. It was easy to get Nana to climb the stairs with her after lunch. They would kick off their shoes. Sophie slid out of her jeans and play-stained tee shirt while Nana took off her house dress. Then Sophie in her underpants and undershirt and Nana in her slip would slide under the quilt, pile the plump pillows behind their backs, and settle down in the bed to rest. That's what Nana called it, resting. She kept the story they were reading on her bedside table so they could pick up where they left off the day before. Sophie got lost in the story while her fingers stroked the silk of the crazy quilt and traced the embroidered places. Rainy days were the best. Nana either read longer or she'd let the book fall onto her lap while she told Sophie about the way it had been in the house when she was a girl. Sometimes Nana cried but Sophie pretended not to notice, too busy moving her fingers over the soft quilt blocks.
Oh, that was nice. I could just feel the closeness and hear the comforting rhythm of the woman's voice reading a story to her granddaughter. Stay warm today. You too, Roi, out there in California-land.
--Barbara
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