In the Air

It was too cold to go to temple square last night (16 degrees = too cold). But we had to do something to dress up Wes's treatment day!

So we dined quickly at Huntsman's little Bistro (where they have a tasty blackened salmon sandwich and where Lucy drank about a gallon and a half of chocolate milk for dinner and where Spencer, who had worked hard to de-decorate every Christmas tree in the facility, was hungry enough to eat a horse)...
...and then we dashed to a nearby Smith's Marketplace to get something warm for Spencer's hands (the socks we've been using to protect his little digits weren't going to cut it in 16 degrees). Smith's had a million pairs of appropriately sized mittens. For girls. Pink, purple, or leopard print.
I told Wes that trappers used to wear fur hats, etc.
???????
Whatever. The cub was warm. And down town was beautiful.

We didn't stay long. It was cold and late. I admit that a few times during our freezing stroll I wondered, "Why are we doing this? We're all exhausted, our toes are numb, my camera batteries keep dying, and Lucy's going to be crying for the car before we make it around the next corner."

But she never cried, and as the kids slept in the back seat on the way home, I thought about Spencer's excited, furry hand pointing at every horse drawn carriage. "Nay! Nay! Nay!"

A feeling of Christmas.

Inspite of the cold. Inspite of the messy un-decorated house we came home to. A feeling of Christmas that came from the companionship. (And from the late night cocoa.)

Today, looking at the red coat she'd worn on our outing last night, Lucy said to me, "Do you remember when we were on the city and my shadow was so big and I was soooo waaaaaaarm in my coat?"
Funny how it's the warmth we remember.