Snow is on the ground. The temperature has plummeted below zero and will hover thereabouts. Winter has come to Vermont’s southern valleys.
We’ve had it coming. All of my carefree days of tromping about without a hat, gloves, or jacket are over. Also, my brake pedal sticks in place every morning until I press on and off enough to wiggle it free. And yes, that involves a story that my mother should never know about.