What a shock. The frost is getting serious. There was a ungroomed cat shake of snow clouding the air out there and the puddle from the rain has a suspiciously glossy cattreat-crunchy look about it.

I’m even more grateful for that heater blowing the toasty smoky breath of heaven on me. Guess this seals the fate of fewer sparrows crossing my gaze for a few months. I’ll still have the lope of squirrel ropes and the laps of hairlesses to enjoy.