We woke to find a fresh flocking of new-fallen snow had transformed our yard in the night.

Fresh snow highlights the milkweed pods.

Don't Ask Me How, I Just Live Here

Same back yard, one week later and fifty-five degrees warmer. There's no way to describe it other than just plain batshit crazy.

And I can't take advantage of the warmer temps by, say, going for a little walk around the neighborhood to finally get out of the house and stretch my legs for a bit, because it's raining! I suppose I could take a bumbershoot along, but then we're back to batshit crazy again. The weather can go ahead and act crazy if it wants to, but darned if I'm going to be a part of it.

"Do you ever feel any regrets about moving back to Wisconsin?" my Mom asked me the other night, and I told her "no," because that was the only self-respecting thing to say, but ...

Find The Brass Monkey

It's a state law that when the temperature plunges below zero, and if you have a blog, you have to post a photo of the thermometer and prattle on for a bit about how cold it is.

Man, is it cold! It is so cold in Wisconsin, all the brass monkeys go south for the winter.

I have to admit, I never got the brass monkey comparison. I always assumed it was code for something we weren't supposed to say in mixed company, but nobody ever told me the dirty version, so I've never been sure what "colder than a brass monkey" means.

In my neck of the woods, the more popular expression was, "Colder than a witch's tit in a brass bra." Brass seems to be a baseline for measuring cold temperatures, I supposed from way back when there used to be more brass door knobs and handles you had to grab hold of to get in out of the cold. Good thing they came up with the saying back then; with all the brushed aluminum and stainless steel out there now, "witch's tit in a brushed aluminum bra" just wouldn't trip off the tongue as satisfyingly.

When it's this cold, every trip from the house, no matter how short, becomes a major expedition you have to provision for. Is there a shovel and a bag of kitty litter in the trunk of the car to attempt a dig-out? Do you have at least a quarter tank of gas to run the engine in case you have to call for help? Are you wearing the requisite half-dozen layers of clothes? I wouldn't even walk to the end of the driveway for the morning paper on a morning like this, and in fact, I didn't. I figured I could read it on-line from the comfort of my easy chair where I can stay wrapped up in quilts. That's how cold it is.