Inspiration: Eight Degrees

I'm not anti-polar vortex.

The weather today reminded me that my grandmother, a few years before she died, knit me this tremendous neck cuff (kind of an Elizabethan neck ruff) at my request.  She used the finest wool in all of Utah County.

I've been spending a lot of time in this corner, my laptop wedged on a ledge not built for laptops. Go elsewhere with your new fangled writing machine, the ledge says.

I'm here because no internet.

The year is one week old.