It's cold everywhere. My car takes a solid 10 minutes to warm up, the vents blowing tepid air in my direction. My toes are cold. My ears are cold. I blow repeatedly on the tips of my fingers; my thin gray gloves are no match for the weather.

The heart can think of no devotion
Greater than being shore to ocean -
Holding the curve of one position,
Counting an endless repetition.

[Robert Frost]

Winter brings a flurry of cold weather things: down jackets, twinkling string lights, oversized sweaters, fires in the fireplace, cookies, cookies, and more cookies. It doesn’t usually bring sun or buds on the trees or Christmas days hikes in a t-shirt and shorts. But that’s all turned upside down this year, so if we’re going to get all addled with our seasonal cues, I figure we might as well make the most of it and eat some s’mores. We can’t eat them over a beach campfire on a warm July night, but we can turn them into cookies and that’s just as good.