I was knee deep in eggnog pancakes when I realized it was one of those crystalline icy mornings.

You know, those super sparkly ones?

The kind that have been on my list to stop and enjoy for years now.

When I made it outside the first thing I heard was the heavy dripping of water from the trees hitting the crusted snow.

The moment had passed.

After the initial "shucks", I realized what an apt metaphor for these fleeting days of pancakes and a table full of hungry bellies...

Winter will surely guarantee more sparkle but, over time, the number of chairs seated around my table will become fewer, my pan will lay idle more often, plates in our cupboard will remain stacked for days and this house will suddenly seem all too quiet.

Ice may not keep, but it can certainly wait...

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