It’s still cold.
It’s still snowing.
The little birds sitting on the back fence seem fairly content and well-fed, though.
I am more or less hibernating.
By “hibernating” I mean that I am wearing fuzzy sweaters when I can get Tessa to stop napping on them, drinking warm beverages, burying myself in research, and writing something that is not yet novel-shaped.
Now Tessa is sitting on the sweater that I’m currently wearing. Joy.