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

then sweaty armpits because like you're 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 touch.

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

Chapter 26

Knights and Squires

The chief made of the Peequad was Starbucks, a native of Nantucket and a quaker by descent.

He was a long, earnest man and though born on an icy coast

seemed well adapted to endure hot latitudes,

his flesh being hard as twice baked biscuit.

Transported to the indies his live blood would not spoil like bottled ale.

He must have been born in some time of general drought in famine

or upon one of those fast days for which his state is famous.

Only some thirty-airid summers had he seen

those summers had dried up all his physical superfluousness.

But this, his thinness, so to speak, seemed no more the token of wasting anxieties and cares,

then it seemed the indication of any bodily blight.

It was merely the condensation of the man.

He was by no means ill-looking, quite the contrary.

His pure tight skin was an excellent fit and closely wrapped up in it

...