Sluggo is giving me nothing but trouble tonight. The room may not be cold enough for him. This rainstorm is surprisingly mild for the time of year. I have the window next to me open, filling the room with the smell of wet wood, but the draft is easily warded off with a sweater and knit cap. It's almost spring-like out there. There is no wind, and the rain spatters softly, as it has for hours. I guess I'll read for a while and listen to the rain while Sluggo takes yet another nap.