The reason I hate winter is days like these. It’s cold. I’m cold. I gather that it dipped down to freezing for an hour or two last night. But that’s the temperature outside — what about the temperature inside? In my home office, as I type this, it’s 63 degrees. And that’s with the heat cranked up to the maximum. We can’t get it much warmer in this old house without insulation or central heat. I talked to my sister in Indiana last night, and she assured me that her living room was a toasty 72 degrees. Meanwhile I can’t keep my fingers and toes warm. I’d like to curl up under the eiderdown and dream of summer all day, but instead I’ve got to ride to work.

At least my office there will be warmer.

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