Snow, Snow, Snow

I love the old Technicolor movie White Christmas from 1954.
This is one of my favorite scenes, where the foursome sings "Snow" on their train ride to Vermont.

When I spoke to Sis at 10 P.M., she said they already have about a foot of snow in her part of Connecticut. Here in Maine, a big group of Hurleys [H. and all four of his brothers, plus assorted kids, wives, girlfriends etc.] had piled into Mike and Therese's movie theatre to see True Grit at 7:10. I liked it a lot, especially the look at life in the late 1800s and wild chances taken on the wide open land. I also liked the main character's straightforward confidence, unusual in a girl of 14, especially then, I would imagine.

By the time the movie was over, the snow was falling and the streets were thickly frosted. The strings of old-fashioned lights that the town puts up every year looked so pretty.

Leah and I walked home [just five minutes], loving the sparkling freshness. H., Figgy and our nephew Taylor drove instead. Figgy said her boots were too slippy to handle snow.

We hope to sled tomorrow. Still saying my prayers, still a lot to ask God for, a lot of patches to be lovingly sewn in a very imperfect life. A lot to trust in, a lot to forgive [if I choose to], a lot to face, a lot to struggle to understand, a lot to muddle through. But I can square my shoulders and lift my chin and stand up to you, Life. Yes I can.

Good night.