Winter is back and snow is falling again. Temperatures will be in the single digits by this weekend. Last night, after my first STATS class, I came home with a numerical headache of facts, formulas, probabilities and measurements. My mind became twisted. I'm a person who likes stories, ideas, creativity and free thinking and my brain doesn't work in the ways of linear textbooks. Yet, to survive this semester, I have to adjust how I learn(these textbooks, by the way, are expensive: they're small, but obviously with formulas worth much more money than a good piece of fiction -- a $100 more per book).
So, I came home, unpacked my bags, and built a fire in my wood burning stove. It didn't take long before the heat battled the chilly air and my tiny abode warmed up. When it got toasty, I decided to put the Statistics books aside and to read one of the fiction books lying around my house. The fire from the stove and the fictional tale in my lap returned me to comfort. Happiness is curling up on a couch with a good book and a warm fire.
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