**Baby, It's Cold Outside**

Today is the kind of day that makes me appreciate living in a wood heated cabin in the mountains more than any other. We woke up to a snow storm this morning. The flakes were coming down fast and heavy. Occassional gusts of wind would pick up the snow and whip it around in short-lived tornadoes, temporarily blotting out the view, while howling across the tops of the chimney and stove pipes.

We eyed the weather, and each other, knowing that we had ballet rehearsal in less than two hours. As the eggs hit the skillet, and the teapot started to scream, I opened the door to see our truck buried beneath several inches of snow, but began gathering the tights, slippers and pants for the kids. Not ten minutes before we were supposed to leave, as we wiped up the last of the egg yolks on our plates, the wind died down, the snow stopped, and the sun came out. Everything took on the crystal sparkle of new snow in the sun, and we headed down the driveway to town, passing a friendly Jeep owner pulling a truck out of the ditch on the way.

An unusual wetness brought an icy edge to the wind in town, and you could smell the faint scent of woodsmoke as we crowded into the World Cup Coffee with other wool bundled, boot stomping Taoseños.

A few hours later we made our way back home into the mountains as the sky began to darken again, and the snow started to whirl about us and pile up on the windshield.
Back in the driveway we sat for a moment, hands on the doors, and braced ourselves for the storm outside. No doubt we were both thinking 'it's here' and realizing how soon the day would come when we would be dragging the groceries down from the road on a sled rather than just running them from the trunk to the door.

Now we sit in our cozy wooden cabin, fire tolling in the stove, and the wind gusts so strongly the house seems to groan with it. The huge trees that surround us sway and the wind chime looks like it might take flight while my crazy kids bundle up for an expedition into the back yard. They find it funny when the wind knocks them down into the snow drifts, and I plan to leave that pleasure to them. I have different plans involving an extra large mug of steamy chai and a decision between Harry Potter and Love Medicine.

Winter is here, but between you, me, and the wood-pile, I love it just as much as the pond-side summers.