My husband has dozens of nicknames for me. He has been home from bouncing around the globe since the week of Thanksgiving, and he is so happy to be laying in his own bed reading books with me next to him at night that he has begun calling me Cozy. It is cold and gray and snowy outside our windows on this first day of Winter, but it is snug inside our house. The wrapping, baking and cleaning are done; the tree and candles are shining in the twilight; there are harps and violins humming Christmas carols to cheer us, and family is due to arrive from the airport at any moment. Yes, I am feeling Cozy and it suits me just fine.