Remember how I kept saying I wished it would get cold because it didn't feel like winter when it was 70 in December? Yeah, so, um... I got my wish. Apparently whining gets you somewhere - it gets you to 9 degrees. 9! NINE! That's it. Only 9. I mean, it's not like Chicago where it's so windy you might lose your whole face if you go out at the wrong time and catch a gust (just ask Retro Girl). It's not like Minnesota where everything freezes... including fast moving waters (Sandra could tell you).

It's not like those places, but it's still cold. Wicked cold, in fact. I had to put both of Duke's jackets on him just to take him outside to pee. Poor thing. That short hair doesn't do much in the way of insulation. I made him another jacket this weekend that covers his belly so he doesn't lose all of his heat that way. Even with both layers he was shivering. He was a chilly dog. Get it? Get it, huh? It was a pun, see. (I made chili for dinner, I guess I've got it on the brain.)

Apparently it's going to be 22 tomorrow and not get above freezing again until Saturday. Be careful what you wish for, people. I think next time I'm going to wish for hundreds of bolts of fabric, or piles and piles of money, or unlimited brownies hot from the oven. Any of those 3 things would be mighty nice. Nicer than the way 9 degrees makes my face feel, anyway.

Random aside: You know what's funny? MT is playing guitar at the moment getting ready for a gig type thing on Saturday. He's just warming up and he always plays difficult things to loosen his hands. Well, right now he's switching from Metallica to Van Halen to Jimi Hendrix to Better Than Ezra. Um, BTE? I love them, don't get me wrong, I love them a lot. It's just pretty funny to hear "Breathless" right after "Along the Watchtower". It's like that Sesame Street game - One of These Things is Not Like the Other.