White Pumpkins & Paper Whites

It got cold. Fast. This week I bought a coat in the middle of the day because the wind blew through my sweater and scarf. Later that night a friend gave me some little paperwhite bulbs, which I love, but trigger images of eager snowflakes. There's nothing I like better than winter, than pillow perfect snow and warm houses, but winter wonderlands belie stick season, snow shoveling, window scraping and now crossing fingers that friends wont be snowed in or out of the wedding.

In fairness, it's not even Halloween. I have yet to take my new little power drill to the perfect Martha pumpkins. It is chilly and not California.

1 comment:

  1. Well, it's not Halloween yet, but it is the Pumpkin Festival this weekend in Keene. Which reminded me of a meeting mom and I were at about 15 years ago about forming a new arts organization (which became Great River Arts in BF).
    Frustrated w/ all the high-falutin art talk, I went on one my classic (embarrassing) manic rants about how if they wanted to see REAL creativity, they should go to the Pumpkin Festival and see what happens when thousands of people of all ages and skills levels dig deep into their imaginations.
    Everyone looked at me like they were hoping there was a security guard who could throw me out—except Doug Trump, who knew exactly what I was talking about.
    (Just thought you should know before you and the guys get out your drills and knives...)