Blustered and stormed like a raging, white bird yesterday. I stand in the kitchen topless, wearing the new pants I altered yesterday. I’m eating golden-sweet chunks of a fresh pineapple that was on sale for $.99. My dear friend bought it for me while we were out at the store. “Pineapple is a sign of friendship and hospitality,” she told me and gave a silly smile. My mom used to eat canned pineapple with cottage cheese, and I’m thinking how much better the fresh pineapple will taste with the cottage cheese, and it does. A rare, creamy, tropical treat in the throws of winter. I use the last pineapple wedge…