It was two below this morning, -2°F. For my metric friends, that's like -40°C or -408 millidarcys or -768 kiloKatal or something.* Too cold!
I stayed in bed as long as I could, then got up briefly -- and went right back to bed. Hunger finally drove me out, to a plate of sausage hash with an egg cooked atop it and some nice Manchego cheese as a buffer. I tried a trick this time that worked out well: sprinkled a generous pinch or two of flour in the skillet before adding the hash. It browns up nicely in the grease left after my blotting-up of as much as I could from the decanned block of hash and it moderates the slightly-harsh spiciness.
Trying to decide what next. "Back to bed" has a certain appeal but it lacks panache.
* Oh, all right, okay, it's -19°C as near as matters, actually -18.888888888... until you run out of eights. So, you're so clever, what's the special thing about forty below that got it included in my bogus list of conversions?
He Worked On A Starship
2 months ago