There is a wind outside. And it's strolling through the inside.
As I sit here by the computer I can feel the air moving through the House, like silent kittens of ice, rubbing annoyingly against my feet.
Frozen felines without that cuddly, cute, purring thing.
The priorities on a day like this are as follows:
A) Hit the Reading Room
B) Make the Elixir of Knowledge
C) Start a fire in the woodstove
D) Drink the Elixir while in the Chair, watching the fire, and wrapped in a blanket for an indeterminate period dictated by the time left before the frenzy of the day must start.
E) Let the frenzy begin.
Huh. Now that's interesting.
The Little House has most of the electronic gizmos that would label us as a "modern" family. At least up here in the woods.
And yet, an iPhone doesn't keep me warm. Cable television doesn't either. Or the Internet, Facebook, Twitter, Twatter, or Putz.
All those "important" things.
Very modern, very cutting-edge, and still very honkin' cold.
Huh.
It's those basic things I need when things get cold, sad, and ugly.
Forget the Jetsons.
I'm heading back to Little-House-On-The-Prairie.
A fire in the fireplace.
A hot bowl of chicken soup.
A warm, cuddly blanket.
A big, long hug.
Our lives can get pretty cold.
The wind is blowing with that edge; has been for days.
Our hearts are slowly freezing.
We're getting numb all over.
Then we hear His chuckle and feel His arm around our shoulders.
So much busy,
so much doing,
and yet so cold and frustrated.
C'mere.
Sit down next to the fire.
Here's a blanket.
I'll get us some soup.