It's chilly outside. The landscape has a hazy overtone that speaks of winter's imminent arrival despite the still fiery leaves drifting from tree branches. It is sweater weather in truth, and a pot of soup is bubbling merrily on the stove. This is the sort of day when snuggling deeply into a quilt with a copy of a well-worn, perhaps even dog-eared, novel seems like the thing to do. And I just might do precisely that as soon as I knock another item or two off the To-Do List.