Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures

We have had a bit of chilly weather here this past week. COLD, people. COLD.

I think the wind chill one morning was a toasty 8 degrees.

You won't hear this Southern girl complaining, though. I love me some chilly weather. Now before you tell me to pack it up and move to North Dakota, and that I am not really "Southern" because I like cold weather...

Let me explain. It is January. That- in my tiny mind- translates to "cold." I like to enjoy each Season as the good Lord intended. Warm in the Spring, cool in the Fall, hot in the Summer, and cold in the Winter. Nothing irritates me more than for it to be cold on Easter. Or blazing hot on Thanksgiving Day. Irritating.

And, in my defense, I am a flip-flop lover. (See. I like Summer. IN Summer.)

How cold has it been here?

Just let my two cats explain it for you in their own way.

These cats barely tolerate each other. In truth, the fat one HATES the skinny one.
Hmmm...

Anyway, this is Shelby (a.k.a. "Biggie") trying to cuddle up on the couch with what she assumes is a pillow?



Trust me, this cat cannot STAND her adopted "sister." She growls and hisses when Subway walks past. It doesn't help that Subway takes random smacks at her at EVERY opportunity.

Does she really think it is a pillow? Maybe with her old age and half blind self she thinks it's me or the boy?


Or maybe when it's 8 degrees outside... enemies can become friends... if they're warm.