It's something crazy like -250 degrees outside. Okay, more like -10 and, as the sun rises, it should warm up to about -3 by the time I have to meander out to my car.
I officially live in the Simulated Arctic Circle.
My idiot neighbor next door never shoveled his walkway post-storm last Thursday. Once the deep freeze set in (yet again), he has been attempting for days to chip away at the feet-deep drifts that block him from getting from his front door to his car without needing mukluks. He is out there now, early in the morning, scraping, scraping, scraping, scraping at the snow. It sounds like a frozen sawmill coming through the windows.
Good luck, little dude; good luck.
However, this is New England. Sometimes we have mild winters, sometimes we have extreme winters, and sometimes we fall in between. Right now we are in the midst of a particularly harsh spell. Oh well, kids. This is one of the reasons we live here (not just me, but all of us crazy people): winter is beautiful.
Plus, we get to puff out our chests and say such sage things as:
Florida is cold? It's snowing in Florida? Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. Hold my beer and watch this...
