I stop at the top of the hill and yell for them to keep going. I want to watch them.
I plant my poles, snug my hat down a bit and wrap my arms around myself to block the chill.
The temperature hovers at 10 degrees. It’s beautiful windless cold – the crisp blue of a winter sky when the light makes edges sharp.
I take a mitten off to wipe my nose.
I quick jam my hand back in the mitten and tuck thumbs into the finger sides to soak up the warmth generated by many. Thumbs have it tough. They can’t generate enough heat all by their lonesome. They need company to have any shot at getting warm. Continue reading →

With their pinkies pointing at my face, they backed me up against the kitchen counter saying, “Pinky swear you aren’t the one bringing us presents on Christmas morning! Pinky swear to it!”
It would be the closest I’d get to being a real Santa Elf. I was thirteen and my brother eleven. Through the family grapevine, we were selected to help the Cookie Lady.
It’s cold outside.
They could have banished me to the old white shed.
They are in there.
The car was stocked with corn nuts, sunflower seeds, pretzels, waters and grapes. (I forgot the Fritos.) Kids had their papers and pens for marking off which animals they might see. The tank was full of gas and the heat was cranked.
