It's official- fall has turned to winter and I couldn't be happier. I find something extremely comforting in a gentle snowfall and gray sky. Of course there's the car that's frozen shut, the wet feet, and gale force winds, but I do love it so...
In an attempt to ring in this cozy time of year, I'm burning one of my favorite Yankee tarts; Harvest Home. There's something so soothing in the scent.
Yesterday afternoon I stopped at a tiny, quaint antique shop along Patriot Street. Every morning on my way to work the pretty little Christmas tree perched in the storefront window seems to smile at me, beckoning me into a world of ancient treasures. Once inside, I was greeted with the smells of Christmas; pine, cranberry, clove, and cinnamon. Just breathing in the holiday yumminess took me back to the days of living at 862. My mom and dad always made the holidays so magical. Being in the shop emerged as a true delight. I enjoyed conversation with the nicest lady who shared in my love of other people's trinkets. We spent a good deal of time discussing the stories that the different pieces of furniture might tell. It's always refreshing to meet someone who isn't in a rush; someone who is truly enjoying being lost in the midst of a shopping adventure.
The above photos were taken this afternoon around 4:30. Obviously, Dott Avenue has been transformed into a violently shaken snow globe. Welcome to the 'hood, Jack Frost!