In the wee small hours of the morning

Last night the wind howled, the temperature plummeted, and the furnace ran almost constantly. Which means I woke up to the feeling of 'every last drop of moisture has been sucked out of my bod.'

I had remembered to turn on the humidifier in the kids room, so they were only mostly dry. There's a big difference between mostly dry, and all dry. 

I know this thanks to Miracle Max. He gives me hope.

I peered out at the thermometer on my front porch, and in my best evil queen voice commanded

"Thermometer, thermometer, on the log, what is the temperature out there in the fog?"

 "11 degrees below zero, your majesty"

Then the evil queen got back in bed and hid under the covers and sucked her thumb.

Emmy and Jonah weren't about to let that happen, so it was off to the kitchen for some Scrambled Eggs and Toast, which Jonah has requested every morning for months now and is starting to get really old but he eats a lot of it and so we go with it.

But what did I find in my kitchen? On the little green-house windows above my kitchen sink?

 Oh yes. This is frost. On the interior of my home. Even Jack Frost had to come inside! That's how COLD IT IS OUTSIDE RIGHT NOW!

A morning like this can only end happily in one way.

 We have a blanket, and it's a special blanket. It's the Reading-Blanket-a-la-Camille. She made us what is basically a huge fleece bag for Christmas last year, and it is a weird treasure.

 There's nothing better than it on mornings like this.

If it needs to be -11 outside, so be it. Because that means I get to do this.

Luckily we stocked up at the library yesterday, 'cause it looks like we're going to be here for a while.