Snow. Sleet. Frozen rain. Wind chill. We’ve got it all here in the heart of Ohio. My fingers are only now starting to thaw and I’ve been indoors for the better part of an hour.

I’ve got no complaints, though. As I say fairly often, I’ll take the cold over the heat any day. To paraphrase Dave Attell (from when he was funny), there’s nothing more uncomfortable looking than a fat guy on a hot day. He always looks lost or as if he’s forgotten something. A fat guy on a cold day, however, looks prepared.

The cats have taken up new wintertime spots—Olivia in a corner in my office, Oscar in a box where I tossed a coat last winter, and Nelson amidst the folds of a comforter on the couch. I don’t know what makes them switch their hangout spots—probably nothing, really. Their brains are the size of walnuts. Oscar enjoyed warming his nutsack on the register in the bathroom last winter. He seems to have lost interest in it this year.

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