On the Eleventh of April, in the year of our Lord Two Thousand Ten and Nine years it is 28 degree Fahrenheit with strong winds and sleeting snow.
There is only two inches at most up but it is still drifting to a degree.
Spruce trees are beating the house so it sounded like the shingles were being ripped of of the roof.
I walked outside barefoot to get the newspaper from the steps on the hill where the lazy newpaper boy throws it nowadays and was fortunate to kick the correct snow drift apart and spot the bag it was in.
28 degrees is not that cold but I was surprised how cold my feet got so that snow is colder than air temp.
UPS delivered my potatoes from Maine and our mailbox is falling apart so I will have to go out in the storm and wire it together.
