To each his own. To me my own.

Arctic Blast

How cold is it? Baby, it’s cold outside.

Record lows are being made here in the south – and well, a lot of other areas too. Someone told me yesterday that the farmers almanac nailed the prediction on this frigid winter. And so far, it appears there’s no end in sight.

So I broke my less than one month-old ice scraper on my windshield this morning. Dangit, it was a good one too. Guess it wasn’t as good of one as I originally thought.

We’re supposed to get a little snow tonight, but just a dusting they say. It’s going back down to 18 so maybe it’ll be too cold to snow. Our poor mountain folks are getting pounded and I know they’re sick of it. They still haven’t dug out of the 20 inches they got before Christmas!

Which gets me to thinking (yeah, that can be a dangerous thing). If the long hot days of summertime are called the dog days of summer, what shall we call these short frigid days of winter?

I’ll get back to ya on that one.

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