When I was a little girl, I loved winter best. I grew up in a place that has the highest annual snowfall of any city its size or larger in the United States. On our little street, the snow would get so firmly packed that my friends and I used to ice skate on it. The snowbanks were as tall as mountains. We climbed them after school and carved out snow dens with connecting tunnels. In the evenings, after supper, we played outside in the dark beneath silver stars. We were just north enough to sometimes catch a wavering glimpse of the aurora.

I still look forward to January's sparkling days and long nights. It's my birthday month, as well as Amy's and Zach's. They turn eighteen and twenty-one this weekend. I can't remember how old I'm going to be, but I do remember that my birthday is in a couple of weeks. 

On Monday, as snow lightly fell, I drove up to New Hampshire and visited my favorite yarn shop. I  practiced extreme self-control and only came home with three balls of Calm Wool (a wool, camel, alpaca blend) in a rich teal color to make another hat with a fur pom for Amy. I like the name "Calm Wool". Wool is calm. Knitting is peaceful and comforting.

I'm just finishing up a pink hat for Em in fisherman's rib.

 I plan to cast on a new pair of socks this afternoon with this yarn from A Hundred Ravens:

January is a great time to curl up with a good book and a steaming cup of tea. My friend Sarah Elwell released a beautiful new story collection last month called:  The Coracle Sky.  The book contains twelve lovely tales, original art and photography, a soundtrack, and notes on the stories. Sarah's writing is magical, lyrical, and evocative--the perfect thing for long winter evenings. Highly recommended.
 

Joining Ginny today: