Actually, is sin cold? Oh, whatever.
It's cold here. As in about 18 degrees F. My kids were outside sledding earlier this afternoon, oblivious to the cold. Where they get that gene I don't know. I cry if I have to run out to the car - in the garage - to get something (usually a book). Never would I consider voluntarily staying outside in this weather. They were getting so warm they took off hats and hoods! I don't get it. Maybe their dad was giving them nips out of the whiskey bottle when I wasn't looking. Or, maybe a stray St. Bernard gave them swigs straight out of the barrel. Whatever's giving them the endurance, this calls into question if these really are my children. Maternity tests will tell.
At the library this afternoon I hosted a Christmas (sorry, "holiday" to those whom that offends)(including me) Concert. The group is called the Bittersweet Band. They sing old school folk music and have a gorgeous holiday program.
You can listen to them here, at no extra charge. If you're in the greater Chicagoland area check them out. I give them my personal Bluestalking Seal of Approval.
And their jokes are about that bad, too. But you'll love them. Guaranteed.
Homework beckons. Two last-week projects loom large. I must heed their call.