I'll start with November.
In early November I took my last drive over the Mirror Lake Highway. I was planning to go back the week before or after Thanksgiving to cut a Christmas tree, but a couple of big snow storms took that possibility away. 
I discovered that Liberty Park has free Internet wi-fi, so I spent a little time there working. Liberty Park has become one of my offices. Crews were still cleaning up the oily muck that spilled into the pond from a Chevron pipeline break near Red Butte Garden in June. 
I also started working at Novell as a contractor through Niche, which means I have to drive to Provo one Tuesday every other week. And going to Provo means going to Tommy's for a chili hot dog or chili burger and fries. 
A heavy November snow took out a lot of big branches from trees that hadn't lost their leaves yet. Erickson Dairy looked like a war zone on this Sunday morning. 
Thanksgiving at my dad's house. That's him at the far end of the table.
Now let's go into December.
On the Saturday before Christmas every year the Wasatch Lawn Cemetery decorates the entire cemetery with lit candles in paper sacks. There are thousands. And we've gone the last three times, since my mother died. (This picture is out of focus, because auto focus was off, and in the dark I couldn't tell. Sorry.)
I promised Randy I'd take him to lunch in Wendover for his birthday last March. I thought I should make good on the promise before Christmas, so we went one Saturday. On the way back we drove into the mountains above the Bonneville Raceway (which is covered with several inches of water this time of year). 
Sara's family invited us to make gingerbread houses. This is the first time I've ever done this. If you can't tell, mine is an outdoor park pavilion with a Santa Claus greeting candy corn kids. Sara's is a train. The others are houses. 
The Provo Tabernacle, where the graduation for my master's degree was held, burned down in a spectacular fire. I took this picture on one of my Tuesdays at Novell. 
This is Christmas morning. A car ran through a brick fence on Sunnyside Avenue just above Foothill, so the people used the hole to frame their Christmas decorations. 
Still Christmas morning. This is a building on the edge of the Great Salt Lake. 
And this is Santa's flight. That's all the Christmas pictures I have. I hope you weren't expecting to see us open presents, because I was so excited to be opening presents that I forgot to take pictures. We also spent the afternoon at my dad's, as is tradition, eating ham, funeral potatoes, sweet breads, raspberry punch, and other stuff. 
In the evening, Chieko and my clan went to Murray Park to take some family pictures. These are the Astle and Weaver kids: Caroline, Jackson, Tanner, Mei, and John Elliot. 
The Weavers. 
The Astles. 
Not many people at Novell were working the week between Christmas and New Years, and because there was no one to give me work, I ran out. So I took off Thursday and Friday (December 30-31) and went to Milford. This picture is of a building in the Newhouse ghost town west of Milford. The temperature was 3 degrees, not counting the wind chill, and my fingers just about broke off. 
A huge windmill farm near Milford started operation last summer.
Now let's go to January.
For my dad's 85th birthday on January 4, we took him to the Market Street Grill for a halibut dinner and then went to his house for cake and ice cream.
On January 6, we went to the Weavers' house to celebrate Wells's (January 5) and Annabelle's (January 6) first birthdays. 
One Sunday afternoon, after our morning church (I like morning church), I took a drive to my West Office. 
This is a ghost house off the highway south of Stockton. 
And another ghost house in Ophir. This is a cool little old mining town where a few people are now retiring. You should drive up here one day if you get a chance, in the winter or summer. In the summer, I think you can drive quite a way up the canyon. 
I decided to go ghost-town hunting near Ely, Nevada, on Martin Luther King Jr Day, a holiday at Novell, but not at Niche I found out. I went the night before and stayed in a Motel 6. 
Ely has one old casino, and a couple of newer hotels with casinos. 
Some Ely farmer has a sense of humor, or just has long winter days with not much to do after the cows are fed. 
Crosses are all along Highway 50, The Loneliest Road in America, where drowsy drivers are probably a frequent problem. 
Unfortunately, MLK day turned into January Thaw Day, with the temperature in this part of Nevada getting to 55. That meant the dirt roads leading to ghost towns turned into sloppy oatmeal. I drove about a half mile down the 10-mile road to Hamilton, but even at 8 a.m. the road was thawing out and I was sliding all over. I figured that even if I could get in the 10 miles, the road would completely thaw and I wouldn't be able to get out. I then drove down another road that looked pretty good, but I almost got stuck there until February, when it might freeze again. So I drove on the paved highway to the almost-living town of Eureka, Nevada. This is one of that town's fine homes and is typical of Eureka. 
About 15 miles outside Eureka, on Highway 278 toward Carlin, is this very little LDS church in the middle of nothing. There are no homes within viewing distance from here. Just a few cows.
Just south of Carlin. 
This is also coming into Carlin from Eureka. 
Sharon's is a bar and grill outside Carlin. There's actually also a building that's in a little better shape than this catering bus. 
This bulldozer is at the Oasis-Montello exit off I-80. I think it's for snow removal on this rural road. 
The California Trail Interpretive Center, which is just east of Carlin in I-80, explains the terrible weather and desert difficulties pioneers went through on this path to California. The center was closed due to it being winter. I find that ironic. 
