Today Ista went in to get a haircut, and the drive into the vet's (which also houses our groomer) was already getting pretty slick. So I walked to get her, instead of driving, and the walk back counts as her walk for the day. We are done, we are home, we are gradually -- very gradually -- warming up. And after another few minutes, we will be working on the book. Well, one of us will. When we got home, my footprints from the walk out had already disappeared on the road in front of our house. There will be warm leftovers for dinner, and quiet time with my book and probably with someone else's book as well, and there will be scruffing with the wee beast, and there may even be fresh pumpkin bread (since the last time I made pumpkin bread, the oven went insane). And I'm only going out to shovel Ista's path on the back deck. Saturday was a lovely day out and about in the snow, glorying in being careful Minnesota drivers. Today will be a lovely day in, now that we've had our walk. All good. All good. I love this place so much. A tree had split under the weight of the heavy wet snow on one of its larger branches, and we stood and smelled it as the snow came down on our heads. It wanted to smell like spring, but it didn't quite manage; the sap was wrong. We were both fascinated, the dog and I, and so happy.