Like divine dandruff, snow snows outside my window,
sometimes in lazy, downward spirals, sometimes in frenetic horizontal streaks,
sometimes in whirlpool swirls and curlicues. It is distracting me from all I
meant to do today, and is a right white blight on my plans for another
two-wheeled London adventure, but it’s so pretty I don’t mind.
Also, now that I
have followed them southward, I am free to wear the mitts I knit whenever I can
get my hands on them (and in them).
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