in the heat of the night

First of all, when Madison skies are this blue in February, you know it's a cold day.





When the only booth on Library Mall is one where a vendor sells fleece wraps, and those fleece wraps are flying as if they were kites gone wild -- it's really really cold.





When Bascom Hill looks enchanting and a little remote, Canadian almost -- I'm reminded that we're still in deep winter.





And when the bus stop is deserted, but for a brave lass with a very furry hood and her ever loyal, no matter what the weather, boy, perhaps friend, it has to be a a sign. Of something. Maybe a sign that I should get home already.





Home. Such a pleasant idea at the end of the week. And it's unusually pleasant in a challenging sort of way as I have a lunch to prepare for tomorrow. For twelve people. At my house. At noon. And I cannot be home just before the first guests arrive. So that the entire meal has to be cooked in advance. I am, at the moment grilling things. At midnight.

I think it's still cold outside, but I wouldn't know. The stove has been working overtime.