Winter took one last swing at Tucson last night and left the mountains white all the way down to the valley floor. The dog went out at 5:00 this morning, reluctantly, and came back in very shortly thereafter with big snowflakes all over her back. It only stuck to the dog, not to the ground, at least in my neighborhood.

I filled the feeders with seed and suet; songbirds need to eat close to their body weight each day when it's this cold. The finches and sparrows are fighting for prime spots on the feeders, occasionally getting muscled outta the way by a pair of thrashers and the occasional woodpecker.




















Gila woodpecker nibbling on peanut dough.

The oven has been on all morning, so the house heat's been off. We have a lovely cookie sheet packed with roasted grape tomatoes and a big pot bubbling away with a braised roast nestled among onions, carrots, and multi-colored fingerling potatoes.

It's a day for noodling around in the kitchen and crashing out with a book.