Fall arrived over the weekend. The rain on Friday was being pushed by a cold front which made it cold and damp on Saturday. For one day it was exciting. I worked a little outside, put on a thick fleece jacket, kicked some leaves around, picked up sticks. Husband watched football in the afternoon and I made a baked chicken, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and baked corn. I contemplated building a fire. I thought, this isn't so bad. I kind of missed fall. And then the next day, when I woke up and it was still cold, I didn't like it so much. I couldn't get warm. Even the Sunday Morning Ritual of the New York Times couldn't get my spirits up. For most of the day I was depressed. I hate winter. I can get through the holidays but when January comes, it seems unbearable. I think day length really affects me a lot also. There is a day in the beginning of February,usually, where my spirits remarkably improve. But for now, I'll try to keep myself busy with bulb planting and other yard chores. I was thinking of building a cold frame out of scrap wood and some old windows we have. Maybe if I knew something was growing out there in the frigid winter, it would cheer me up a little. We'll see.