Well well. It seems I'm being a bit of a fan of winter hibernation.
Funnily enough, I do this every year, and every year it takes me by surprise... Gradually, slowly, I'm coming to accept that in winter, I don't like going out. Others like gathering for parties, going to the local lantern parade, and things like that, but really, all I want to do is sit at home, staring into the flames of our warming fire, and feed it logs when it needs them. Perhaps a little knitting in there, to change it up a bit too.
My excuse? I'm sure it all comes down to genes. Both my parents are Russian, and I'm certain that my genes are telling me that there's 11 foot of snow out there, and going out is a serious mistake!! Add to that the memory of being quite ill the last wintertime, and I really don't mind myself staying home, right where I want to be.
Given that I feel tantrums of the ugly, flailing, snot crying sort building inside me when I go against my strong inner urges like this one, it's really in everyone's best interests that I stay right here!
