Hay Seeds: Something warm

Bad cold. Bad, bad, cold. The floorboards are chilled though the woodstove is on, and I can feel it through my heaviest socks. No amount of Dayquil is lifting the feeling that someone stuffed my Eustachian tubes full of steel wool.

I'm thinking about knitting. (By thinking, I mean just surfing for amazing hand-spun yarn. Not, you know, actually casting anything on.)