.... if you would like to speak to Santa, please press 1... if you'd like to speak to the reindeer, please press 2.... if you would like to get on line to shoot the groundhog who predicted endless weeks of winter, please press 3...
As you might have noticed, I'm a bit cranky this morning. Cold and totally stupid weather can do that to a person, and right this very minute, our weather is about as stupid as it gets. I woke up to the sound of sleet hitting the windows. I thought I was hearing things... but one look out the window told me that my hearing was just fine. There's a fine layer of snow on the roof, the grass, the deck... and sleet is bouncing off the stones in the courtyard.
Looking at the road going down our hill, I would guess that if I had a pair of ice skates, I could glide down that hill very nicely. However, along with the ice-slicked hill, we have temperatures below freezing, so I think I'll pass on that golden opportunity with the skates.
About the farthest I'm going outside is back and forth to the garage when it's time to give Mickey his cans of Fancy Feast. That cat is huddled up in his pillow-bed, right in front of the heater, and he's as warm as a piece of toast. Gatsby went outside this morning and stayed in the cold for less than two minutes before he ran back to the porch.... I'm sure a warm litter box is preferable to a cold flowerbed. Sweet Pea is running from window to window, looking out at the snow which is so bright-white that all of the birds are very visible as they peck into the snow for frozen bugs and worms.
The weather gods have not only gone crazy, but they've delved into the madness of a frozen inferno of winter magic tricks that seem to have no end. (A "frozen inferno?" Is that even possible?)
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