I've passed over this book a few times at the library. No reason. Before the holidays a friend was over and commented that she had to "get home soon, she was reading a really good book." Being the fantastic guy that he is, Adam took note and Brooklyn appeared under the Christmas tree. I'm almost ready to read it, hoping it's as good as I imagine it to be. 

And just like that, the snow is almost gone. More soon, please. We'd love to take our snowshoes out back one afternoon (or many). 

Everyone is home now, they were gone for hours. I spent almost the whole time on various phone calls, something I'm not used to doing. As I type these last sentences they're mashing potatoes, carving roasted chicken, tossing salad, warming applesauce... wine is poured. Another day. I appreciate their help so much.