Stephanie Newton Books

I have to admit, I’ve complained–a lot–about the warm temperatures in December here in NW Florida. It doesn’t feel like it should be the Christmas season. It’s muggy and misty and my son said my hair was frizzier than our poodle’s. However, yesterday as we took a family walk on the beach on Christmas day, the air was soft and sweet-smelling, the sand cool beneath our feet, and I know that I am blessed. I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else, not even for a white–snowy–Christmas.