“poor old winter is knocking at my door”

I’m not usually one for talking about the weather (I have a thing with small talk – which is why I am such a wall flower), but this morning’s weather came straight from a storybook. Owl At Home, by Arnold Lobel to be exact.

As I sat here looking over my emails & drink my tea, the front door burst open, & there in my living room was poor old winter!  He had let himself in with a gust of wind.