Sumer Winter is icumen in,
Lhude sing cuccu snowplow!
I don't know how much it snowed here. We are on the northern tier of The Great Blizzard of Aught Ten and probably didn't get as much snow as the Twin Cities; 17" at the airport there and 22" in the far southwestern suburbs. I'd guess we got something in the 8-10" range. The reason I cannot be more precise is that I have not gone out and do not intend to. Smokey is in Minneapolis working doubles and the snowplow is broken, so I am not going anywhere.
Matthew The Invincible emailed me last night about the bike ride he took on Saturday. Actually, he wrote that mostly he walked the bike. Even with those super-fat tires, 16" of snow is a bit of an obstacle to pedaling.
The view from my desk chair.
Usually we can tell how much snow has fallen by the depth on the railing, but it has been so windy that that is not an accurate measure right now. At least I don't have to worry about the roof caving in... like the Metrodome. (When I googled to find a link to the Metrodome story the first one I clicked on was from the India Times site. I guess it is Big News.)
The forecast:
Those are the raw F˚, folks, none of your wimpy C˚ or your inflatable wind chill temps. I knew it was cold when I woke up this morning because it was 57˚ in the house. I'm comfortable in two pairs of pants, a t-neck, a sweatshirt, and wool socks. Plus fingerless gloves and a Calorimetry if necessary. If all else fails I can burn the cats for warmth.
Wait. Don't tell them I said that. I would never burn them. Not enough BTUs in a flaming cat.
I'd burn the dogs.
Wait. They would yield more heat if I put away the matches and strapped one on each side of me. Yeah, that's the ticket.
Okay, Kat™ out. I'm off to find a dog and some straps.
