We’re hunkering down here at chez Concerns. Firewood is piled high. Supplies are laid in for the winter. Mainly coffee and chocolate.

All right, so we got no snow. But still.

I refuse to leave the house unless it’s to get straight into a heated car and then driven somewhere both undercover and warm. That’s how the pioneers did it, right? Well, they would have, if they had the choice.

The dogs shiver pathetically at the back door, peering through the glass in various attitudes of abject misery until we relent and let them in. Then they RUN for the best spot in front of the fire.

Yep, gonna be a long winter.

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