The Sabine Farm is pretty socked in, today. With effort I could get into town, but I am wondering just why I would do that. The snow is blowing around pretty fiercely at the moment.
After Mass, the fellow who served came up to chat and have a piece of apple pie and really strong dark-roasted Sumatra.
The little tree is doing well, fittingly perched today atop a volume of Horace’s Odes. Winter seems not to bother this miniature Carmona microphylla in the least.