I Wish I Knew How to Hibernate

When I start feeling sorry for myself as I walk the frigid 25 yards to my firewood pile, I'm humbled by the Wooly Bear caterpillar that seems to be perfectly content without a jacket - well, I guess he has a built-in jacket.  The cats are having fun fighting to keep warm in the front hallway.  When they go outside to eat, it's interesting to see how they get twice as big by puffing up their hair.  Meanwhile, I go back to writing.  The electronic sentinel my son Ryan built me for Christmas stands guard over my subscription renewal form for Poets and Writers.  I must say, one advantage of holing up in the cold weather is that I'm more motivated to write and draw.  In the summer, it's hard for me to slow down long enough for deliberative activities.  That's one thing I've always liked about a climate with four distinct seasons.  Impossible to become too set in my ways.