Clear, bitterly cold, temp. minus 31.
Dear Lord. Minus 31. Can't even imagine how quickly flesh freezes in that. fortunately there's no wind. If there was no one would venture outside. Except Tony, who helps around the place and pretty much keeps us running. Around Christmas he looks like Santa. Bushy white beard. Quite a mountain man. But as the season progresses he looks more and more like a Yeti.
God bless Tony!
Quite a busy day. Writing this morning. Have learned to shut out all distractions - phone, email, visitors etc. I have to, otherwise I'd still be writing A FATAL GRACE/DEAD COLD. do you remember Get Smart? I loved that show as a kid. Would you believe I had a tiny crush on Maxwell Smart? But when I write it's as though I bring down my own 'cone of silence' - with results similar to the show. It doesn't always work. Missed it by that much.
Cotton just called. We were supposed to go to dinner with her tonight but she's (not surprisingly) caught a cold so has cancelled. We have a small gift of home-made (not by us but by Manoir Hovey) granola. This granola is like heroine. We've hooked our friends, and now dole it out sparingly when they start 'jonesing'. It gives us power over everyone around us, which we like.
Pat just called - to thank us for the dose of granola we gave her! Lovely woman.
Am off for lunch with Cheryl - the one that was truncated a couple of weeks ago after a call from my agent. Have granola for her too.
Wish I could give you all some - perhaps it's time to introduce it to the bistro in Three Pines. I think I will. Will be writing a scene there today. Ha, that's fun. Granola on the menu now. With a nice hot cafe au lait. Yum.
Stay warm. Thanks for the company.