The first ice storm of the year always offends me. Throughout the spring and summer, I manage to put this bit of nastiness out of my mind. Then I am viciously reminded how much I hate it, and the realization annoys me anew – in no small part because I have forgotten (again) – because, well, this weather sucks any energy and drive I may have right out of me.
There is minuscule consolation in the fact that icicles are pretty. But that only works when the sun comes out. No such compensation today.
Bring on the cocoa and books.