A few vague snowflakes twist down from the weighted sky as Monday's first light lingers over the houses. Here and there a golden window glows--a riser, risen. I have made coffee. I have carried a cup to Tom. I have let the cat out, and in.

My busyness on Sunday made up for my lassitude on Saturday. I dusted, scrubbed bathrooms, washed clothes, cleaned the refrigerator, consulted seed catalogs, traced and cut out a pattern for a shirt, sewed on my apron, read an Updike novel, sat for a new headshot, split kindling, roasted cauliflower, played Yahtzee, polished a table, talked to Tom. Meanwhile, the sun shone on the glossy snow, and the front door stood open to let the brilliance into the living room, and Tom said, that for a split second, his mind assumed that of course I was outside in the garden.

Anyway, here's the best we could come up with, headshot-wise. All the smiling ones made me look coy. I hope I'm not too forbidding in this one. And goodness, how the gray does show.