I just got back from walking the dogs and I am a little cold to say the least. I know it is cold north of here, but you guys are used to it. It was forty degrees here this morning, which is considered within the +/- 10 degrees of freezing for us to go into an all out panic. I pulled out the heavy pea coat, wrapped a wool scarf around my neck, and put on my Chicago Bears stocking cap before walking the dogs. Down on the corner, where my neighbor has a vacation rental for those who want to escape the frozen north, the visitors from Michigan were walking around outside in shorts and a tee shirt. Their blood must be as thick as molasses. Meanwhile, my dogs and I braved the cold and continued on around the block. Just a little more than halfway around, I had to pick up Bette and carry her because she was shaking like a cold diesel engine. This is the coldest weather she has ever experienced. Not so for Mister Chandler, he was all perky and seemed to like the cold. I unfortunately had forgot to pull out my gloves from the corner of the closet where we keep the coat. My hands were freezing. By the time we got around to the church property where Chandler loves to take his morning dump, my hands were numb. My hands were so cold, that when I bent down with the little plastic bag to pick up Chandlers pile of steaming crap, I realized just what I had there. Instant hand warmer. Yes I did. I stood there for at least a minute caressing that bag of warm shit, first in one hand and then in the other.