in the moon of wintertime

I have done my research, and it appears that I have thirty years left of singing on key.

We all should be getting sick of the inappropriate gravity I place on insignificant things, but what the hell, my sister knitted me glow-in-the-dark gloves.

I am astounded by the sincerity of the love I do feel when I am at home, when I am surrounded by all this gentleness and poetry and snow drifts. This is the rich part of life. And I made it through a tricky day without letting slip that I don't belong.

It was snowing when I woke up this morning. Merry Christmas.