By the way, we offer grand entertainment here at La Casa (as well as food, shelter, and indoor plumbing), so don’t y’all let a little snow scare you off.

Jon could remain inside and play host to the smoker while you and I repaired to The Shed, which is not Jon’s and my shed exclusively, rather a cute little structure built to enclose the two garbage dumpsters shared by owners of our little cluster of semi-detached dwellings. There is no heat nor is there light in The Shed; on the other hand, it is not crowded because the feral cats who seek its shelter at night generally bolt for the woods when they hear a human being approach. Lately it has positively reeked of cat piss, but no one ever smokes in there.

Now if for any reason The Shed didn’t please you, we could repair to my car, a Honda Element not unlike Cooper’s. The Element is always stocked with hand-warming packets (such as hunters carry), beef jerky, an old unlaundered cum-stained comforter, and two or three bottles of water (which have usually been sitting in the car for days and are consequently frozen solid). I’d be sure to bring the car key with me so we could switch on the electrical system and listen to XM Satellite Radio (220 stations and half a dozen worth a listen maybe thirty per cent of the time).

Just so you know you’d have options.

Oh, and Deron — I am beginning to take a few pictures. I’ve been holding off because my relationship with the magic of snowfall is delicate and easily shattered. I find it best to sneak up on the snow at close of day (or at nighttime) with a substandard camera; otherwise the snowfall magic vanishes. But as soon as I can coax it into trusting me, I will take its picture and share it with y’all.