Updated and bumped: My temperature ran away. 11:30pm Let the dogs out. Yeah. 32 degrees…it supposed to be summah!
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Yeah. Just returning from the grocery store. Now, I really dreaded going out to get some butter for TMEW’s home made “just finished baking” bread but the smell and thought of that yummy bread overpowered my loathing of getting stuck in the touristy evening traffic here in the Lakes Region of central NH (or, as DCE from Weekend Pundit (who lives nearby)calls it “The Return of the Summah People”, and that is not a great title to have bestowed upon you).
So, where IS my temperature? 42 degrees F. That’s it. In fact, up a bit higher (in elevation) and a bit more North, it could snow.
Snow. On the beginning of the summah season. The people whose livelihoods depend on the warm weather trade – not happy as 42 is not the answer to the meaning of life but a chunk of coal in Christmas.
Those guys that call us climate change deniers – they’re so funny.
