I've checked off, purt near, all the days of the year
From the calendar there on the wall;
Outside here, it's snowing and winter is showing,
That it's close on the heels of the Fall.

The leaves have come down, save the oaks which are brown
All the asters are withered and bare;
This morning at dawn, there was ice on the pond,
And the temperature's dropping out there.

Inside here, it's warm and we don't fear the storm
We've a chuck box so full it won't shut;
There's a big stack of wood and the fire feels good,
To the Mr. and me, and his mutt.

The stock's all been fed and the children put to bed
So we'll sit here awhile I suppose;
We'll review the past year, while we laugh at our fear,
And rejoice in the life that we chose.

It's said Christ was born on a cold winter morn
In a stable with cattle and sheep;
So we're thankful today for things He would say,
And the promise we know He will keep.

When the winter wind whines through the pinon pines
And stirs up the snows of December;
We'll thank God for His Son, all the good things He's done,
And the family and friends we remember.