Blessed are the Sorels, For They Keep My Feet Warm and Dry

Last night I braved the slush and crusted-over snow, well below freezing temperatures and ice-laced wind for a walk to the book store about a mile from where I live. I felt like getting out of the apartment, but didn't want to tempt fate on slippery roads. Like most Sundays here, the streets were pretty dead by the time I set out and it felt nice to tromp around in thick boots and a heavy wool pea coat. I'd brought my nano, but opted in favor of the crunch of packed snow and rush of the wind. I'm a sucker for just about any book store- used, new, independent, corporate- and with a buy-one-get-one-half-off deal, I ended up with two books I'm glad to have but should not have bought new, or at all. Plus, I'd brought a book of my own (I'm re-reading "Gatsby" ten years later...) to read with a steamer from the coffee shop.

Alas, though the novelty of winter has yet to completely wear out, I'm still missing some of my favorite SD spots. I could really go for a banh mi and mysterious Vietnamese dessert.