On Sunday, Jan. 14, I embarked on what seemed like an ambitious expedition with my daughter, Bradley.

Last week we had just the right combination of New England weather elements to create glassy, zamboni-like smooth pond ice.

The new year opens—old is past, Stern winter comes with its rough blast: See the farmer shivering with cold, Driving his flocks and herds to fold.

It may be difficult to separate the Christmas season from the bearded man who drops onto rooftops ‘round the world from his reindeer, but what the season is truly about is gathering family and friends to fulfill traditions passed down through generations, laugh, joke, reminisce and simply enjoy good company.

I feel a little like a who in Dr. Seuss’ Horton Hears a Who, shouting “We are here! We are here! We are here!”

Santa’s elves have been hard at work preparing for the man in the red suit to make a pit stop at the CCC next Thursday, Dec. 21.

It doesn’t quite have it’s foot in the door but winter has managed to make it’s way to the front stoop.

At first they need us and then we need them — that is what happens when a pup joins a family.

Thanksgiving brings our summer friends, college kids and extended families to town by the bushel.

“Our rural ancestors, with little blest, Patient of labour when the end was rest, Indulged the day that housed their annual grain, With feasts, and off’rings, and a thankful strain.” – Alexander Pope