When I was little I remember snow on Thanksgiving every year. Times change and even if we don’t have snow for Christmas you can guarantee that it will be cold here in Central New York (except for the year Dorothy got sick and it was in the high 50’s for New Years). There is nothing better than coming in from the barn (or sledding) to a house filled with the scent of hot mulled cider or minty hot cocoa. Almost makes you want to go back outside just so you can come back in again.
I love fabric, I have a room in my house basically dedicated to it. I fully admit I have more than I’ll ever use. Part of the problem is my lack of willpower (especially against the remnant bin at Joanns) and part of it is my inability to toss usable scraps.