I seem to be in the midst of a hibernation, only roused on the days I need to meet outside obligations.
What is it about the changing seasons, that leave us wanting nothing more than a cozy place to nest.
A place in front of the hearth, surrounded by the tea kettle singing on the hob, slippers warming by the fireside, and a portly cat purring at our side.
A time to daydream.
"What a ripping little house this is! Everything so handy! "
~Mole's house: Wind in the Willows