Last night the house smelled so of winter that I could imagine I would look out the window and see drifts of crisp white snow. The day was overcast, so the light disappeared more quickly than usual. Hubband and the Big Boy were out, so it was just my boy and me in the dim lamplight. I made food for dinner that required the oven be turned on and turned up high so the warm smells of cooking spread through the rooms. It was nice and warm and cozy. But I'm glad it's not quite winter yet.

Big Boy and Hubband went to the X's house last night to get the remainder of BB's stuff. The kid has a lot of crap, that's all I can say. I was a little defensive at first, with hubband wanting to haul things out of our once "guest room" to accomodate the treasures of new resident. (What 21 year old that's never lived on his own comes with furniture? Seriously? When I was his age I could pack everything I owned in my '72 Chevy Impala.) But after I chilled for a minute I conceeded that we should just make piles where we have room and we'll sort it all out later. (A call to Purple Heart may well be in order.) (Unless I get adventuresome and put stuff on Ebay!)

I noticed last night that the Girlfriend has worn the same outfit - Superman tee and flannel pants - every time she's been to our house lately. Hubband kindly pointed out that this was a good thing, since she has apparently stopped channeling Britney Spears and we haven't had to look at her belly or breasts in quite a while. As a matter of fact, she's not wearing makeup, her hair is near it's original color and she looks darned cute.

I will like her if it kills me.

I don't think I can explain how comforting it is to have the whole family together. I feel all June Cleaverish. Right up until the time Hubband started hurling F-Bombs at the Yankees. Then it felt normal again.

Go Sox!