2011-01-11 - 8:36 p.m.
A single apple grew on our tree, which was some kind of miracle because it was a pear tree.
there was an ice storm, so the branches creak and ring together when the wind blows. everything's canceled. everything's closed.
a cat curled up on my lap and went to sleep. i blindstitch-bound a quilt, read a great deal and called out to my husband for another cup of tea.
* * *
reading: at the back of the north wind, george macdonald
listening to: lev gurilev, variations on a russian theme
working on: quilt binding
in the garden: poor little shoots, all iced over