Everyone’s made it to their destinations. The weather in Minnesota was closing in when I left, and the plane needed two de-icings before the pilot was satisfied to fly, but my prosaic flights were essentially hitchless. More important, The Great Trek from Rochester to Rochester was, aside from a blown and quickly-replaced windshield wiper fuse, about as smooth as 20-hours in a jam packed car on American Interstates can be. journey. Sweet B and J the W apparently were both champs.

Connecticut was white and getting whiter when I landed, and the hour-long drive home from the airport was messy. I’ve been out this morning shoveling, and now I’m inside with a mug of tea looking out at the blanketed and clothed yard and bushes. New England is a beautiful part of the world after a snowstorm.

It’s wonderful to just snuggle in here at home on a day like this. We miss our sweeties, though, and can’t wait to see them soon. B’s fifth-month birthday will be on New Year’s Eve, and I think we might pour a little bubbly.