Since I went upstairs to read snow has covered everything. When I finished my book I got out of bed and I could see the snow in the glow of the street light. I came to turn on the floodlight to watch the snow falling. Nothing is moving except snowflakes.
Cold air greeted me on the stairs making me think how many cold nights have passed in this house. Almost a hundred years worth of cold. Even with the furnace roaring there are cold spaces somewhere in the house.
I would bet I have spent more sleepless nights in this house that anyone who has lived here, even old Jasper Reynolds. I've roamed around while everybody else is sleeping. I've read many a book, finishing in the wee early morning hours.
Back to bed to start a new book.