‘The Woods are lovely dark and deep,’ Robert Frost told us…and they are cold today. I remember enjoying the woods in the cold because the frigid temperatures produce a quiet environment. I did not remember how cold feels when you are not used to it. I wonder where the colorful leaves have gone that were everywhere a month ago.

The 2023 Christmas Tree is up and all of the usual suspects of Christmas decorations are in their prescribed places. Carpets of leaves cover the ground. I am enjoying a White Russian that is doing quite well warming my old bones.

Black Friday morning we shopped at Kohl Department Store. It was jam-packed and full of people and I remembered years gone by when our University Mall’s parking lots were all full and it was difficult to find a parking place.

Blue Sky Winery was busy on Friday and they had live music. One of the singers looked familiar and MJ thought that the gentlemen looked like they might have performed with the Rolling Stones. Their music had a well-traveled feel and their faces revealed a lot of life lived.

Yesterday on Small Business Saturday Jonathon and I visited Cricket & Red Brick Antique Store and I purchased a vintage doll…yes, I am an old man and I bought an Old Doll. The box she was in was original packaging yellowed and fragile with age.

‘I love antiques,’ said Neva J. ‘I found three more glass dolls to add to the collection,’ she continued.

‘Did you see the antique full-length mirror in the back room of the store,’ Jane asked with a wink and a smile? ‘As I was peering at myself in the mirror I saw a scene behind me which was not the Antique Store,’ she mentioned with a slight shudder.

‘My goodness we are in the woods and it is cold,’ said Chet with a perplexed look in his eyes. ‘I see the Antique Store at the end of a long tunnel…and there is snow on the ground…and a carriage coming upon us,’ Chet continued…

‘Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.’

‘My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake.’

‘The darkest evening of the year.’

‘He gives his harvest bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound’s the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake.’

The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.’ Robert Frost