A fresh dusting of snow clung to the Flatirons this morning. Tilted toward the rising sun, these slabs of granite shed their frosting quickly, making a morning like this more special. The rays from the rising sun lit up the cloud bank that was perched in the divide, turning it into a large pink pincushion. Tough to leave the comfort of my quilts, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.
Muneca isn't getting out with me on these outings, although I could tuck her in my pocket. I think she is enjoying all the other similarly sized creatures that have sprouted on my shelves. Papa Noel may have to fight Bob the Rock for her affection.
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