It's so cold that the only way I can describe it is with a phrase one of my hippy snow buddies from out west used to say: "Colder that a witch's tit in a cast iron bra." And yup. That about sums it up.
My toes are starting to dethaw from the walk to school. I have good boots but those May/June months I spent rafting the snow melt in Colorado didn't do them any favours. They go from warm to cube in about 2 seconds. It's a great party trick I like to use on Hubster late at night. He'll be all snuggled up warm under the duvet and then ZAP I touch him with my big blue toe.
Who needs electric shock therapy when you've got orteils like that.
If the forecast is correct, there's a really good chance I'm getting the sled out tomorrow. Of course, I'm going to have to bundle myself up to the point that I won't be able to move my arms in any functional manner, but at least if I fall off, I won't hurt myself all that much. It'll look something like this:
(Photo courtesy of BIBimage)
Bear in mind, Typhon's ears aren't quite that big and the last time I had a cigar involved my lunatic high school friends and a possible Turkey Bowl at a now demolished stadium. But I digress...
The snow is blowing in 7 different directions now. The tree limbs are frozen into elaborate delicate glass ornaments, the neighbouring houses pulling their white blankets tighter around their chimneys. It's cold out there.
I'm grinning like the Cheshire cat.