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Happiness is…

… big rag wool socks. At least when its 13 degrees outside. I know
some of the people reading this have it much colder tonight, but I
happen to know that they don’t have to walk the dog. Speaking of which,
I now have a new image of coldness. Previously when I imagined cold,
I’d conjure up scenes from Dr. Zhivago (sp?) or perhaps imagine
Shackleton’s Antarctic voyage. Tonight while walking the dog, she
squatted down and a gust of wind came up. It was strong enough that I
had to turn my back to it and the dogs ears blew out to a horizontal
position a la the flying nun. BRRRR, that looked cold!

Isaac

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