When it's warm at the end of December, we get up in the morning and open all the windows.
We dress in short-sleeves and run around bare-footed.
We make plans to work outside, play outside, and eat outside as much as possible.
We talk about Spring because we can't help it.
When it's warm, it doesn't seem to matter that we only have one stick of firewood left, or that we haven't made hot chocolate yet, or that Mama has taken down all the Christmas decorations.
It'll get cold again- and soon- so when it's warm like this, we soak it up.
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