“A balmy 23 degrees outside!”, not a conversation starter that often escapes my lips, but considering the 12 degrees of two nights ago quite a reasonable comment.
We have cold snaps on Orcas quite often, snow probably twice a year, and when the wind blows the Portuguese galleons do fly, but all three adverse conditions simultaneously, most unusual, one might almost say unheard of, cept of course the old lags remember the great frost of whenever, which lasted seemingly forever long.
Personally I am not too bothered by the cold, after all I am of a blood line bred for the chills, whom consider rain but pleasant pitter patter if not falling with the consistency of quite hefty ice cubes. I have galoshes, a good warm coat, and scarves enough to open a small haberdashery shop. The only missing ingredient is a desire to go out and play with gay abandon, that particular flair disappears as soon as rheumatism infects the joints. A warm fire and a bowl of soup is my preferred antidote to any freeze, and a handy window to admire the dangling icicles.