Sitting with my third cup brewing and some chunks of birch shedding their snow cover down in the shop, I am reminded that there really is a balance in nature.
It's cold outside, but now I'm not tempted to dawdle out there, as it's warm back in the shop. There's snow and ice on my blanks, but I can buck up a tank of gas worth in advance now, without worrying that the pallid sun will make end checks if I don't turn them same day. The spalting 4" in on the end of my old logs is just about perfect - not too soft, but showing well-developed color, and even though there are three logs awaiting my saw, they won't get any more rotten until May. Same for the fresh cherry I'm neglecting to beef up the shelves with spalted stock - it'll keep 'till spring and after, if I want it to. I can begin finishing pieces when the snow's too deep to shovel, and not feel guilty at all.
There's even a counter to the extremely dry air, which might crack my thicker stuff - the thin and let warp stuff is dry enough in two weeks to sand and finish. Oh yes, and the thick stuff now finds a welcome place in the wash room, where the filtered humid air from the dryer helps ease it through until twenty per cent or less.
Y'know, I feel pretty good about winter right now. Just don't ask me in January....