On New Years Day, a morning talk show host made the pronouncement that people who binge watch Netflix are either clinically depressed or lazy. There are days I've lost to the Netflix void where I can admit this has been true, but I think Miss Judgey-McJudgerson has neglected to account for other things, like the most vile winter since the ice age. (That's not official - merely my opinion.)
In cold like this, our little fireplace works overtime and it's still a skosh chilly in the house. Other than venturing out to tend to the animals, we've been passing our time catching up on the wonders of Once Upon a Time from the comfort of blanket igloos on the couch. If the boys ever go back to school, I plan to completely immerse myself in writing my next book - I finally have one that's properly inspired me.
And I don't know if I'm a sucker for pirates or accents, but don't be at all surprised if the hero of said novel looks suspiciously like Captain Hook.
Rolling hills that had been vibrant green just weeks ago were now muted in tone, as if they were taking a deep breath before bursting into the song of fall.