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.