How quiet Christmas is this year. No wrapping of presents—all have been sent directly from where they were ordered—no rushing to clean the house, no flurry of cooking and baking. Less stress, to be sure, but also much, much less fun. As Clif noted, it hardly feels like Christmas.

In the guest bedroom, there is a stack of presents for us, which we will open via Zoom with the kids tonight on Christmas Eve. But without the kids actually being here, somehow things just don’t feel right. While we certainly appreciate their generosity, it is the presence of the kids that  really makes the holidays special.

Next Christmas, I hope, will be better with a big pot of chili and other goodies, with kids and family and friends and movies and lots of laughter.

I expect this will be a quiet holiday season for most of you. But I wish you all a good one nonetheless.

I’ll be taking a break from blogging, reading as well as writing, from now until the new year.  It will give me a chance to rest and gather my energies for 2021, when I will begin work on Book Four of my Great Library Series and record my podcast Tales from the Other Green Door, a spinoff of Out of Time.

Stay safe, be well. A vaccine will soon be available to us all, and life will open up again.

See you all in 2021!

Time was when Clif and I and our daughters hand shoveled and scooped our driveway, which is neither long nor wide. For some reason, it was a chore that Clif and I didn’t mind doing.

But then the years passed. Our daughters moved far away, and we—ahem—were no longer as spry or as strong as we were in our younger days. One Christmas, Dee took pity on her aging parents and bought us an electric snow-thrower, which I promptly dubbed “Little Green.”

Here is Clif with Little Green last winter.

Last Friday, when Clif took out Little Green to clean the snow left behind from our first snowstorm, he had an unpleasant surprise as he turned it on—a loud grinding noise and then nothing. Fortunately, the snow was light and fluffy, and clearing the driveway and walks didn’t require much effort. We were done within an hour.

Because we are Mainers, we always try to fix things when they break. Always. This trait has been passed down by our frugal ancestors. It is in our DNA. So Clif brought Little Green into our dining room. (Little Green is light and easy to carry.) When Clif set Little Green down, there was a mighty rattle, as though marbles were rolling around inside.

No, not marbles. Instead, acorns. Lots of them. Some enterprising rodent had decided that Little Green would be the perfect place to store nuts.

Those acorns snapped both belts, which is why Little Green wouldn’t throw snow.

After much measuring, Clif ordered belts.

Fingers crossed that they arrive before we have a major storm.

If not, Clif and I will go back to shoveling.

Oh, that rascally rodent!

Yesterday we had snow, but today the sun is shining in a deep blue sky.  To a Mainer, few things are as invigorating as light, fluffy snow and crisp air. I realize this might be hard to understand for those of you in warmer climates. But remember, I was born in Maine and have lived here for most of my life. To me, snow and winter go together like blueberries and muffins.

After breakfast, outside I went to take pictures. I will admit that my bare hands were chilly, but still it was fun to take in the beauty while taking pictures.

Here is a picture of our house nestled in the snow. The red makes it look festive, I know.

Out back, I always enjoy looking at the stonewall, a reminder of when the whole area behind our house was fields, not woods.

Then I turned my attention to small things, which are really my favorite subjects.

A fallen branch,

and a branch still on the tree.

My holiday wish is that winter brings us more storms like this, where the snow is light, and the power stays on.

Good things from fellow bloggers:

Barbara, from Thistles and Kiwis, notes her not-so-small pleasure of being formally recognized as a New Zealand citizen. Congratulations, Barbara!

From The Curious Introvert, The Week in Seven Photos, that features darling Harper, Baby Yoda, and a Christmas Tree made of books, one of which just happens to be my very own Library Lost.

And last, but certainly not least, from Canberra’s Green Spaces, a post that highlights a live koala in a Christmas tree, kangaroos lounging in a park, a generous gardener, an adorable dog named Charlie, and much more.  What a place!

Today is the right kind of snowy day.  Quite cold—17° F—which makes the snow light and fluffy, and there isn’t much wind to speak of.  This combination means that there are no power outages in the forecast. Music to my ears.

Although I don’t usually post on Thursday, I couldn’t resist featuring these pictures of a male cardinal in the snow. I figured blogging friends who have neither snow nor cardinals would enjoy seeing them. And it’s my guess that blogging friends who have both wouldn’t mind seeing them either.

Any way you look at it, winter has come to northern New England, and I love its sparseness every bit as much as I love the vibrant colors of spring, summer, and fall.

Note: These pictures were taken with my wee camera from the bathroom window, which I opened. The feeder is probably twenty feet away. And the light, shall we say, was not the brightest.

In keeping with this generous season when the days are short and the nights are long, I received three sets of lovely gifts from friends near and far.

From my blogging friend Judy of New England Garden and Thread, I received this lovely but oh-so-apt ornament. Even for a homebody like me, 2020 has been a bit much.

From my friend Betsy, whom I met through my blog, came this wonderful collection of Santa gifts. After I grouped them together for this picture, I put them on the shelves in the living room with my other Santas.

And my friend Claire, who lives nearby, brought me this chapbook of pieces compiled from a class she taught on memoir writing. I know several of the people who wrote for this book, and I really enjoyed reading their memories and reflections. I know you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but what a gorgeous cover.

Many, many thanks to Judy, Betsy, and Claire!

To read about other bloggers’ small pleasures, join All Things Bright and Beautiful for a look at Christmas trees and Thistles and Kiwis for beautiful flowers and mouthwatering food.

There are no two ways about it—November has been an odd month. In the midst of the pandemic, which sticks its ugly spoke in everyone’s wheel, November in Maine has been the warmest I have ever seen.

Recently, my cousin posted a picture on Facebook of a snow turkey that she, her sister, and a cousin had made in honor of Thanksgiving. When I commented on all the snow, my cousin responded, “Back then, we had snow by Thanksgiving every year.”

Back then was the 1960s, and my cousin lived about fifty miles north of where we live now. Not that far away, really.

This year, in central Maine, we’ve had only a dusting of snow that was soon gone. In deference to the pandemic, we have left four chairs and two little tables out on the patio. We have never had patio furniture out this late, but needs must as the saying goes.

And by gum, my friend Judy came over yesterday for a socially-distanced patio visit. She brought me this beautiful poinsettia. (Or poinsettah, as we would say in Maine.) What a lovely red splash on a gray day or any other day.

Another friend is coming over mid-week to pick up a copy of my YA fantasy Out of Time for her grandson. She told me he has read the previous two books and is keen to read Out of Time.  I always like to hear this, of course, but it especially pleases me when a young boy likes a series that, let’s face it, is girl-centric.  Unfortunately, this is not always the case with boys, who often prefer stories where boys are the main characters. From grandparents and parents, I have heard this sentiment repeated many times at the fairs where we sell our books. Even a brave, spunky character like Maya will not entice some boys to read my novels. Sigh.

But yay for my friend’s grandson!

Just in time for Thanksgiving, I received this comment from my blogging friend Susan, who very kindly put my new YA fantasy Out of Time at the top of her TBR list and quick as a wink read the book: “I really enjoyed it – yet another page-turner from you and I was grateful for some precious escapism. I just need to complain that you kept me up very late finishing it.”

What a nice compliment! Music to a writer’s ears, actually. Many thanks, Susan.

As was planned, Clif and I had a very quiet Thanksgiving. Nevertheless, it was a nice one, with the food being quite a treat. We have been eating low-carb and low-cal for so long that we both thought it was bliss to have stuffing and share a baked potato. All a matter of perspective, isn’t it?

Finally, a melancholy Christmas song—“The River”—from the great Joni Mitchell. Somehow, this song really captures the mood of 2020.

For more favorites and small pleasures read Thistles and Kiwis and All Things Bright and Beautiful.