I think that the holidays feel like frozen noses. I love walking with the dog for long periods of time.

Hopefully it's snowing and you've got to wrap up warm. So I think a frozen nose is a sweaty armpit

because your wrapped up so warm but then you're climbing hamps and heath and you get to the top

and you're like, and then you can see the breath but then your nose is still freezing to top.

Joy in every sip with red cups now back at Starbucks.

The woman who answered the door when I knocked had tears in her eyes.

She clutched her housecoat tighter around herself and took me in looking me up and down.

Miss Burton, I'm Agent Barnes, may I come in please?

She regarded me through the glass staring coolly at my face.

They said she'd be coming. She from the FBI? Some sort of special unit?

That's right, ma'am. I said, pulling on my ID badge and showing it to her.

After examining it for a while she turned the handle pausing to take a quick look.

Hopefully look around the neighborhood before finally holding the creaking screen door open for me.

I stepped up the wooden staircase and entered the house.

The home was well kept, old but comfortable furnishings, walls covered in framed photos, swirling, showing barbecues and family gatherings, weddings, birthday parties.

It looked like a peaceful place, not an abuse of household or an elected one, I thought to myself.

I took my notepad and scribbled something illegible.

I made a follow up on the case involving your son Brian.

You mind if we sit down to talk for a few minutes? She showed me into the living room and I took a seat on the couch.

Can I catch you anything, Agent?

Barnes. Uh, no. I'm fine. Thank you.

Instead of sitting down opposite me, she chose to remain standing, making me feel oddly nervous.

...