Driving down through the hills of the southern tier of New York and the northern tier of Pennsylvania, the rolling tree-covered hills had changed from mostly green to mostly orange/yellow/brown. In the light of the setting sun it looked almost like the yellow hills of California in July. What I'm told is an unseasonably warm fall has finally caught up to itself, and there is a real chill, especially at Wuggy Norple's bus stop before the sun makes its full appearance. The squirrels are very, very fat.
Everyone has talked so much about the winter; we look forward to it with some trepidation. Will we still be able to head south for the weekend to visit our mid-Atlantic family and friends? How will Exploding Poptart run when it gets much colder? When will we get our first $400 heating bill? Everyone jokes about how hard February and March are; what does that really mean? Will Wuggy Norple really throw snowballs at our backs when we're not looking? Will we really be able to make snow angels in the backyard? Is it premature to buy cross-country skis?
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