(With apologies to singer-songwriter -- and SF fan! -- Janis Ian). I was going to write a brrrr-ific post about how the outside temperature was in the 20s and only a couple of days ago we were still enjoying highs in the 50s and whine a little bit about Nature and Its Wonders and maybe snark a little.
Then I thought, I'd better check the temp or some petulant neckbeard will show up in comments and chide me over it having "...ackshully been thirty degrees...."
Yeah, dream on. As I write this, the official Indianapolis temperature is 17ºF, with wind chill making it feel like 8ºF. Eight. Flippin. F. Degrees.
I got nothin' for that. I'm gonna go snuggle with the cats. You call me up about Springtime.
T. R. MCELROY'S STREAMLINED TELEGRAPH KEYS
1 year ago