Partridgeberry of Sleet

[ismo]

Today I struggled with the dementors. My dementor-busting cooking diversion was to create an apple crisp so the big fat Northern Spys that have been keeping in the chill of the mud room would not go to waste. The way I make apple crisp has a lot of sugar in it . . . but I still count it as semi-healthy because, fruit! It also has a whole pile of apples. It was very dark again today. The clouds were back. I heard it raining a little bit when I happened to be awake at 3:30 am. The seasons are struggling over Michigan. Spring begins an impudent little dance, only to be rudely shoved out of the way by another blast of polar air. Spring is confident of winning in the end, even though I'm still listening to Christmas music to lighten the dark days.

The Sparrowhawk has just coined a useful word: gerontoplutocracy. I leave it to the reader to determine what he might be referring to.