Sunday brunch is a recurring small pleasure for me.

Today, I had homemade bread in the freezer from Valentine's Day. Thawed it out and made French toast with it - nice, thick slices of an egg bread soaked in egg/milk/vanilla/cinnamon batter. A little bit of maple syrup and coffee and that's a damn good brunch.

I shovelled off the deck last week. Almost 2 feet of snow, covering up 2 inches of ice (the ice is still there).

It's glorious being able to walk out on the deck and inhale deeply again.

Snow can be a wonderful thing to experience, or a huge issue. Largely, it's all in the way you look at things.

Shovelling yesterday was rough and I hurt today... but I feel my body, and the peace outside while flurries are still coming down is it's own cathedral.

A billion blankets is such a wonderful thing. Maybe it's extra noticeable because I live in a such a cold state, but there's something marvelous about being able to crawl under the weight of a number of blankets and be perfectly cozy in an otherwise chilly room.