Every winter it
snows in Chicago, but every time feels like the first. At the opening downpour of the season, we take a snow stroll around our neighborhood, reveling in the quiet that a fresh blanket of white brings. We make a pit stop at our local Starbucks before walking the few blocks to the beach, where we freeze our faces off while trying to take pictures of the place where so much of our
summer is spent. It's a ritual I adore and coming home to a warm pot of tea in our
Christmas condo makes it even sweeter.