Baby, it's cold outside.

It is cold.  Very cold.  Stormy.
And I just went out in the teeth of the ravening storm to get firewood and chop kindling for a fire.
Because it is COLD. 
And I love a fire on a cold, stormy, winter evening.
I feel, in a way, as if I am defying the weather.  As though, snug in my old, old house, I am more powerful than it.  The wind can rage, the snow can blow, but I, and my house, my drafty old house, we will stand the weather.

For the record, however, wild, tangled curls,which I have and which may look fabulous, are not helpful when chopping firewood.  The wind blows and the curls get into in my face, rendering me blind.  Blind with an axe?  Not good.  Just so you know.
And, in case you wondered, TMOTH said he was going to make some peanut butter cookies for me (he makes the world's best peanut butter cookies.  Perfect combo of salty and sweet.) if I went and got firewood, but those cookies have yet to materialize.

So, here I sit, in front of my roaring fire, cozy, with my feet tucked securely under me...typing my blog.

I am wearing a black, turtleneck sweater.  Did you know, I consider a tight, black, fine-gauge turtleneck to be the perfect piece of clothing.  For a number of reasons.  I own several, but I would like to own several more. Cotton.  Wool.  Silk.  I want them all.

The Small One is hanging upside down off the couch and watching Bubble Guppies.  The dog is snoring contentedly in the middle of the floor.  She was in my spot, here in front of the fire, but I made her move.  This is MY spot.  The cat is curled in a tight little ball in the corner of the couch.  All is well and comfortable.

Now, I think I will knit my bit.