In my mind, Miss Marple is sitting in a wing chair by the fire, no doubt wrapped in a wooly cardy and shawl, covered with a lap robe and drinking hot tea.
Perhaps her bed is already warming with a hot water bottle and a feather bed in place.
Like Miss Marple, I am readying myself for a cold winter’s night- the windchill where I live is -17 Fahrenheit. A cup or two of hot tea is in order and then to bed between flannel sheets and to read a good book. Currently hubby and I are reading They Came to Baghdad (of course, written by Agatha Christie).
Living Miss Marple 