it's snowing on our toilet.

not because there is snow falling into our bathroom through a hole in the ceiling [though that is possible too]...

but rather because our toilet is sitting outside on the back porch.

there is enough snow to cover all but the tip-tops of brittle stems of winter grass. i am warmed by the space heater and the cat curled up small against my hip. jeremy is next door having a beer with our new neighbor who has thus far been very kind and welcoming. this is good, though we will miss aspects of the city for sure. mostly, we'll miss the proximity to many of our close friends, our church, favorite coffee spots, and of course, a house with indoor plumbing.

but renovations are underway at our new home on Oak Street. How can you not love a street named after a tree? It's so very...Father Knows Best. When daylight returns, I'll be able to see through the leafless branches across the road to the back of the log cabin library. There's a small cafe just down from there with a sign out front listing the day's menu. Always it begins with the same thing: "Pull Pork," except for two days last week when it read simply: SICK. The owner is seventy-two. Jeremy ate lunch there and said the food was a-mazing.

we are getting to know our workmen too. they are friendly and extremely hardworking. soon the toilet will return inside where it belongs! [if there is such a thing as porcelain frostbite, i am certain it has it by now.] it is cold cold cold in Tennessee. but we are warm, fed, wrapped up in flannel-plaid & fleece, and thankful for all of it. I make hot chocolate with marshmallows at night and we listen to the space heater and talk about how glad we are to be living in the "country," and how we hope the feeling lasts.