It has been over a week since a right-wing mob attacked and ransacked the Capitol—1/6 is a new date to remember for its infamy. Right now, silver linings are pretty hard to find, but I can offer you the story of a hero, of how Eugene Goodman, a lone Capitol police officer, using himself as bait, lured the mob away from the Senate Chamber. I am in awe of how this man had the courage and the presence of mind to do this. I salute you, Eugene Goodman. I also salute Huffington Post reporter Igor Bobic, who filmed the event on his phone.

Closer to home, January continues to provide cool solace for the ills of this country. Many people in the north dislike January because of the long nights and cold days. I am not one of those people. I have always found January to be beautiful and brilliant yet soothing, a time to reflect and rest before boisterous Spring makes her appearance.

Here is a January picture of the Lower Narrows, peeping through the lacy fingers of the trees and bushes.

What would Friday Favorites be without a Tiny Desk Concert and the solace of music? This time the fabulous Andrew Bird, who not only can play and sing but also whistle like, well, a bird. As someone in the Tiny Desk comments section asked, “Is it wrong, do you think, to envy someone’s whistling ability?”

To read about more favorites from blogging friends from around the world:

Thistles and Kiwis, who surely eats better than most people I know.

All Things Bright and Beautiful: Really, Ju-Lyn? A cobra?

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.