My three year old's perspective:
My perspective:
My three year old's perspective:
My perspective:
Her perspective:
My perspective of my baby out in the cold drinking hot cocoa:
My perspective of families toasting marshmallows in the driving snow. Poor, huddled masses, trying desperately to stave off frostbite.
My eight year old's perspective on the situation. (Toasted marshmallows sandwiched between ginger cookies? Winner.)
The cookies' perspective on winter. Poor, huddled masses trying desperately to stave off frostbite:
Santa's perspective on my six year old. Thumb's up.
And what the same child looked like just moments before:
This is the face of a child experiencing her first Minnesota winter. (And it was 25 degrees outside, that's nothing for this neck of the woods!)
This is exactly what my mother looked like experiencing her first Minnesota winter after moving from her native Southern California:
Except she was about 20 years older. And blonde. But the forlorn facial expression? The hair, coated with snow and hanging askance as if she'd been wandering without a home? The abject misery? Dead on.
Now she loves it here. You get used to dressing for the cold. There is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes. You can't make it here in a hoodie and some flip flops.
This child has obviously not developed the calluses necessary to enjoy American Siberia. But she will.
And I promise she looks like this most of the time:
What a difference a day makes.
And what a difference our awesome customers make: look at these ornaments that were sent to the studio! An adorable miniature skein of handspun silk and merino.
I love this miniature tree!
An amazingly detailed elvish stocking:
And some miniature wool pants! My goodness, these are cute.
If you see your ornament pictured here, THANK YOU, and please use the contact button your right to jot me a note -- I have something for you.
Happy holidays -- whatever you celebrate -- to you and yours.