Not quite time.

The crackling of the fire.

If I could just keep my shoulders down and away from my ears.

But really, next year, I am going to have someone else do this.

“I just like the feeling of Christmas.”

I watch her stare out of the window as we head down the highway. I talk about the differences in the mountain ranges that line the valley. I am grateful for how much I still love to stare at the nature around us.

Potatoes, prime rib, asparagus.

Just want to sleep.

Staring out over the vineyard as the sun sets.

Really, we are so lucky.