... It makes you feel ALIVE! ...

Sure, only because dead things don't feel this kind of burn! You know, you aren't cold if you are still shivering. It's when your body stops shivering that you know you are cold. In this sort of weather, you don't even start to shiver. It's your body's way of telling you that no life was intended to survive in these temperatures, so why even bother? In this weather, you head straight to the burning, where every skin cell screams at the top of their lungs ... "DAMMIT WOMAN! What the hell are you doing to us!? Get your chubby butt back inside and turn on the space heater!"

But then I see the two fluffs, happy dancing by the door at the prospect of bull dozing through the snow drifts. And that makes me bundle up in layers, take one last deep breath of indoor air, and march out the door, cringing as the storm door slams back with a rattle ... yeah, even the metal springs that slowly ease the door closed give up their will to live in at this temperature.

We've spent much too long indoors, curled up doing "winter" activities like reading or blogging. The boys and I are getting stagnant and "poofy". Well, not Gio. Romeo and I are getting a little cushier around the middle, but Gio remains slim and trim. Must be due to his new thyroid meds. Maybe that's my problem ... I should get my thyroid checked. Yeah, thyroid, that must be it, couldn't possibly be all the cookies, candies, chips, and deep fried goodness that I've been indulging in. If my thyroid were working, my body should just shrug all of that off, right?

Ahem ... a girl can wish.

So out we go, into the -31C winter wonderland, with the razor-blade wind that makes it feel like -44C. SHITE!

Make it quick, boys.

Lost ball #1.
Lost ball #2.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm looking for it. I am!"
"Found one!"
Sheltie Snow Plow.
Hey, with a nose that long, you've got to use it for something.
The result of the Sheltie Snow Plow.
Lost ball #3.

We gave up at that point. There is now a red rubber ball with a dead squeak in the front yard and a purple tennis ball in the back yard. We'll find them again in the spring and the boys will be thrilled with the "new" toys.