I live in Erie, Pennsylvania. This is a typical winter day in Erie, as seen looking down my driveway. That's my husband Donnie sweeping the snow off the front porch. I do most of my writing late at night. I have words—so many of them! And an entire lifetime of lived experiences, over half a century's worth to be precise. When I'm deeply engrossed in writing, I won't realize it snowed unless I hear that familiar resounding CRASH when a plow driver forgets to raise the blade high enough and hits the manhole cover in the street in front of my house, dislodging it and turning it into a huge cast iron airborne Tiddly Wink™ (or a giant, airborne cast iron cookie if you prefer).