We’re not as protected from the cold here as we are in Canadian houses. Even the most modern of conveniences fail to disguise the age of our homes. My mail slot practically whistles to the tune of the omnipresent wind I’ve almost grown used to. My toes have been increasingly reluctant to leave the warmth of our bed in the mornings, and when I stand on the pier waiting for the 7.46 boat I am typically triple-wrapped to protect myself from the sideways pelting rain.

We just wrapped up three big parties over three days and I’ve spent the afternoon in my pajamas, apologizing to my liver. I think I’m in denial about having to be ready for our trip home in a few short days. Particularly the part about packing for both sun and snow. What I’d like to do is fill my suitcase with books and only the clothes I’m in. Sadly, that’s not an option.

I still haven’t wrapped my head around the fact that Christmas is just about here. It feels like five minutes ago I was heating bottles and sleeping next to a Moses basket. I can’t help but wonder what 2009 will bring. Admittedly, I’m not quite the optimist I used to be.

In the meantime, I plan on wrapping myself in the warm safety of quality time with the friends and family I miss so constantly.

And I can’t wait to see the snow.