Back when we still lived in Kelowna, we played a little game where we tried to see how long it would be each year, before we turned on the furnace.

More often than not, it was late into October. One time we even stretched into November!

Not here in Calgary. We should have fired up the afterburners days ago. Every morning lately I awake to Mrs. That Dan Guy chipping icicles off her cheeks. I have a cup of unintentional iced coffee. The only thing preventing immediate hypothermia is my flannel long-johns…

Yes, we’ve skipped right by fall here, and seem to be experiencing the arctic chills of winter. I’ll only be able to stubbornly refuse to turn on the furnace so much longer, or I may have to thaw the shower before I can step in.

I think what makes it so cold is the mountain air. Whenever it gets rainy or wet outside, the thermometer drops like an Acme anvil just before The Roadrunner speeds safely by. It’s a wet cold. Cold Wet. Flippin’ chilly…

Which reminds me of the old “Mexican Weather Report” – Chili Today, Hot Tamale!!

Ha Ha Ha!! Ba-Doom Boom! Here all week, folks!!

Anyhoo…

I guess what I’m getting at, in my own terminally miserable way, is that the last few mornings have been bloody cold in the house.

Chow for now!!