h Bum! You belong in this chair. Scooch back until Your Hineyness is comfy supreme. Grab the blanket and warm up the rest of that body, you can't have all the good. Around you are portals to worlds and you are the axis of them all. From here you howdy strangers, wave so long to friends, wait for them to find their way in again, stack of books to while the time. The woodfire warms you, a million channels call your inner sleuth - pick me! no pick me! - the kitchen is a mere why-yes!-I'll-have-a-slice-of-that away, and your garden peers in, begging your attention, all itchy with spring. Why get up? No need. Not tonight anyway. You are wanted, and your love, your home, your sweet, good blessings surround you. You'll stretch your legs tomorrow.