I do not have a cold but I have COLD right outside the door and the coat rack is full here at the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse. It is 11 degrees, but since I am a Northern Indiana girl I did not realize this when I stepped into the vestibule – without my jeans on. Yes, in the dark of the early morning I grabbed a diet cola wearing only a long shirt and my underpants. (Underpants, not panties – like I said, because not only am I a Northern Indiana girl, I am a rural Northern Indiana girl.)

Anyway, grabbing the drink and then standing there assessing the supply of soda, water and sparkling grape juice, I did think that there was a bite in the air.  Sitting here with those bare legs under a blanket, I am feeling the tingle that warmth brings to cold and so I looked and saw the “11”.  For some folks, I suppose that would be and “!!”.  Of course, we have been much colder up here between Lake Michigan and Lake Erie, but this is the first time this season it has been more than nippy.

We have had some days though with rain in the 30’s and a strong wind that were just nasty as far as outdoor comfort is concerned. The cold in the Cincinnati/Ohio River Valley was worse, I think – a wet cold that crawled up the cuffs of sleeves as if they were wicks. Dry cold is like dry heat – just plain better.

I didn’t look to see what the high is going to be; I’ll have to because my “guess-o-meter” has not yet been calibrated for this winter.  I’ll need to be ready to judge when the soda needs a sleeping bag thrown over it or actually brought into the main house. As for this morning, the diet cola wasn’t even slushy. I am not really missing the diesel, though, as cold sets in  – watching the glow light wasn’t that festive . . . and then there was the time I backed out of the garage with the block heater still plugged in. That was not cool.