"It’s so-o-o-o cold outside." "How cold is it?"
"It’s so cold . . . even the Good Humor guy is in a bad mood."
Just an hour north of us in Sioux Falls, they cancelled school yesterday because the wind chills were, like, forty below. Unbelievable. If hubby ends up getting a job any further north than this, I may be crying all winter long.
"It’s so cold . . . I saw an Amish guy buy an electric blanket."
I've always said I'd rather be too cold than too hot, and I still say that (you can always put more on -- you can't always take enough off). But if we must have the cold temperatures, we should at least get the pretty snow to go with it, yes? Iowa winters are ridiculous. Especially stretches of days like this when we never see the sun . . .
"It's so cold . . . I put the meat in the freezer to defrost."
"It's so cold . . . the fire hydrant is begging a dog to pee on it."
The disadvantage of the high ceilings and very open floor plan in our house -- we can't seem to contain the heat. Every room is cold. Well, except for the main floor powder room and the music room, which have doors to shut. I'm about to move all the significant furniture in there for the next month.
Ugh . . . another month of this . . .
"It's so cold . . . the rats are bribing the alley cats for a snuggle."
It occurred to me yesterday that this might be a good time to get out Laura Ingalls Wilder's The Long Winter and re-read it. To hear about a frontier town with no electricity and no running water dealing with blizzard after blizzard every third day or so for a few months . . . running out of food . . . twisting "logs" of hay to burn every day because the firewood disappeared early on . . . howling wind and no sun for days on end . . . it might snap me out of this and remind me of how good I have it. We are truly wimps.
"It’s so cold . . . even members of Congress couldn’t get into a heated argument."
< Snort! > Okay, it's not that cold.