The mannequins on Fifth Avenue are wearing party dresses. One day they were helter skelter, naked and sideways in their windows, no clothes or even arms to keep them warm. But now they’re back upright again in sequins and feathers and silvery drapes, holding tiny little glittering boxes. I admire resilience.

It’s pretty cold in Portland right now. Everyone is hiding inside, and even the morning commute seems to have vanished. Not even lingering street kids with pit bulls. Not even corner canvassers for Greenpeace.

The women in my office building, lawyers mostly, are still in pointy heels and black stockings and skirts much shorter than what I remember from my dad’s law office in the eighties, but now they have black coats with trim, and coordinated hats and mittens. I don’t have a coat that will fit around me anymore so I’m mostly layering sweaters and anything else that covers my belly. Staying true to my hippier days in Eugene.

This morning when I opened my Outlook a reminder popped up that I must have put in months back saying Thirty Days To Go and there you have it, plus or minus. In the mean time we are hanging lights, and painting walls, and wondering. What will it be like after this winter arrival?