Cold

I feel wimpy; I remember temperatures in double digit negative numbers and wind chills to boot. It is only 8 degrees outside and I scurried like a little squirrel to run out into the back vestibule. What if I don’t have the courage to reach out the front door for any packages being left for Christmas delivery?

You know, I may have to break down and actually PUT ON A COAT and ear muffs . . . because I am getting older and wimpier. Or, perhaps, just maybe, could it be? I am getting a little common sense. Naaaah. Not AmeliaJake.

Of course, if you really want to see people who laugh at any temperature above zero, you can come with me and watch the high schoolers pour out of the building after school . . . some in shorts. No kidding.

Actually, this cavalier attitude is more of a modern thing – not much in evidence when we walked to school, did not have enclosed malls, had mailboxes out by the roadway . . . and were handed a snow shovel and aimed out the door