In other news:
I handed in the first draft of my writing project (phew!) and simultaneously lost interest in buying sweaters. (I am too embarrassed to tell you how many I ordered but it was more than 12, and only partly because I ordered a bunch in my usual size, which were too big.) The final sweater tally of the keepers is three: two cabled turtlenecks in ivory and black, and one navy cabled V-neck, which hasn't arrived since the mailman didn't really ring my doorbell yesterday when he says he did. I was home. I got all of them at good sales prices, and they are all replacing similar sweaters that I've worn out. I just noticed that a turtleneck I've been wearing a lot lately (despite it's being a size too big and an unpleasantly bold shade of purple) has five holes. That's too many even for me.
I logged more than five miles today on snowy, slippery, slushy sidewalks. I'm amazed that I didn't even come close to falling down. I'm beginning to think that not paying too much attention to my feet helps a lot of the time. Of course, that kind of thinking often backfires spectacularly, doesn't it? I should count on getting a dog's-eye view of the world — very close to the sidewalk — pretty soon.
And then there was this today, on Boston.com:
So, from Saturday to Tuesday we are going to see fairly steady, accumulating snow. If that isn't an excuse to stay in and bake cookies, I don't know what is.