"She knew that cold is not so cold if you are not afraid of it."

It's winter.

Last night, Rexburg experienced a little over a foot of snowfall, for the second time this year. And between it being February and having a slight cold, it's all I can do to resist hibernating. I'm either part-plant or part-bear, based on my responses to the weather.

Since I can't reasonably hibernate, I'm reading. I have the time to read this winter, unlike winters of the past. Two Februaries ago, I did a blog entry about "winter reads," and I think I'm going to call these books "February Books" from now on. I've been reading a lot of them lately.

I don't want to explore "brave new worlds" of literature in the winter. I'm finding I don't have the summer courage to make new literary friends. In February, one wants old familiar friends.

So far, I've reread Anne of the Island, Little Women, The Fault in Our Stars, A Wrinkle in Time, and most of the Little House on the Prairie series. I haven't read the latter in at least fifteen years, and
it's been fun to revisit. And boy, does that series help you deal with winter. It sort of romanticizes winter. And that's nice when you can't hibernate.