Jingle Bells

Winter has finally caught up with us. It’s cold, clear and crisp as a well-tuned bell. And getting more and more so as the minutes pass.

I heard the last of the thunder rolling out about 7 this morning. It started about midnight, so I went to bed before it got here. I can’t go to sleep when it’s storming. I have to get to bed before it gets here and rely on God’s good grace to see me through.

The skies cleared up and the wind started blowing. Blowing cold and mean.

Fitting weather for the events of the day.

John’s mother died last night or early this morning. He wasn’t quite clear about it. He’s in the hospital and is giving up on his battle with Parkinson’s. Now that his mother is gone, he doesn’t seem to be able to find a reason to hang on.

Trying to wrap my mind around yet another death is taking its toll. It leaves me addled and confused. I can’t quite get my thoughts together enough to get them down on virtual paper.

Thank God for Lucy. I’ve never seen a cat that gets right up in front of the TV and watches the pictures changing. She gets so intense that it becomes comedic.

A little ray of sunshine, wrapped in orange-tabby fur, on a cold, cold night.

Cold, clear, crisp.

But no more bells, please.