As I write this, wearing my mittens and three pairs of socks, the weather has warmed up to 14 degrees, with a feels-like factor of 4. Yes, you read that right: WARMED UP to 14.

As an unnecessary reminder, water freezes at 32 degrees. So, if it was twice as warm outside, we still could turn off our freezers and set the frozen lasagna and ice trays on the back porch.

The only good thing is that you won’t notice if your spouse is angry. When it’s this cold, every stare is icy, every shoulder is cold and everything frosts everyone. In fact, you might want to pick a fight with her. A heated argument might be the only way to stave off transforming into human icicles.

I know people — I suspect that they’re strange visitors from another planet — who love to go outside and play in the cold. They play hockey on ponds, zip down hills on sleds, and shriek and giggle their way through snowball fights.

Not me. I subscribe to the words of wisdom of the great philosopher Dave Barry: “The problem with winter sports is that — follow me closely here — they generally take place in winter.”

I should just be a bear and hibernate.

True, I have been quoted as saying I prefer too cold to too hot, because when it’s cold, a guy can always layer on more clothing.

But when it’s too hot, there’s only so much a person can shed without getting arrested.

Mother Nature needs a hot flash.

Those of you who have seen as many winters as I have also remember “Tonight Show” host Johnny Carson and his “It’s so cold” bits.

“How cold is it?”

It’s so cold that Dad finally turned on the furnace.

It’s so cold that even the squirrels are wearing thermal underwear.

It’s so cold that I’m using an ice tray as a heating pad.

It’s so cold that my campfire froze.

It’s so cold that snowmen are migrating south.

It’s so cold that my sweaters need sweaters.

It’s so cold that I chipped a tooth on my soup.

You get the idea. It’s a might bit chilly outside.

Instead of going out, let’s put our pajamas back on, sip hot chocolate by the fireplace, space heater or hair dryer — whatever you use to boost your warmth — and settle in to read what the great philosophers had to say about winters shivers:

“It was so cold I almost got married.” — Shelley Winters

“Winter is not a season, it’s an occupation.” — Sinclair Lewis

“You know it’s a cold day if your teeth start chattering and they’re still on the nightstand.” — anonymous

“Every mile is two in the winter.” — George Herbert

“There’s no such thing as bad weather, only inappropriate clothing.” — Ranulph Fiennes

“Nothing burns like the cold.” — George R. R. Martin

“There are only two seasons — winter and Baseball.” — Bill Veeck

I threw that last one in there to remind myself that spring really is coming. Although I’ve worn my winter coat to more than one ballgame in Cleveland as snow trickled onto the field.

We can also warm ourselves with a little poetry, like this anonymous piece that I’ve seen popping up like ice cubes in a cold drink:

Noses are red

Fingers are blue

I’m tired of winter

How about you?

Share sweatshirts, blankets and hot chocolate with Cole at burton.w.cole@gmail.com or on the Burton W. Cole page on Facebook.