Merry Christmas!

I write to you from my sister's dark kitchen in Vermont, where a tuxedo cat and two King Charles spaniels are trying to convince that I know all of the secrets of their breakfast. In the living room a son and a nephew are stirring in their sleeping bags; upstairs the others are still asleep. 

Across the fields the first shards of sunrise are glinting over the Green Mountains. Somewhere in Canada my older son is holed up in a motel room, the victim of terrible weather and a closed highway. We hope he'll arrive today, but are relieved he's safe and with a friend and cheerful enough, all things considering. My parents were without power for 36 hours but that ordeal is finally over. Our drive across the mountains was fairly hairy yesterday. It's been hard to make it to Christmas this year.

But those of us who've managed to arrive are in good spirits.

Love to you all--