Listening to: Bjork, Post.
The snow's covered the kids trikes out in the yard, little spontaneous snowanimals frozen in a pre-flight launch. Nothing moves outside, it's too damn cold, Five degrees, Eighteen below with the windchill.
We'll be bundling up later for getting Kiddie Kandeds taken, everybody in their matching redandwhite Christmas outfits, smiling, hopefully. I just hope this beastly weather doesn't take the cheer out of em'; they'll certainly retain some red in their cheeks.
X gets a brief respite while I get a few hours of bliss.