Our furnace is on the blink. It is cold. Typing fingers do not bend well when cold. I slept in sweats last night and woke up at 4:15 because I'm cold. The dog slept in our bed last night because she's so little she has no body fat to keep her warm. She is built like a squirrel. A cold squirrel.
1.This is a warm squirrel. He is water skiing.
2.This is a cold squirrel. He is wearing a sweatshirt. I bet you thought there was no such thing as a cold squirrel.
3. This is a squirrel coat that I would like to be wearing right now.
4. I am sleep-deprived.
My coffee has Coffee Mate Pumpkin Spice in it. Now you are jealous. Don't be, because it is cold already. I just poured myself another, and when I pulled the spoon out, there was a piece of old food stuck to the spoon. Why am I being tortured.
This is pumpkin spice squirrel. It has an interesting flavor but is not practical for coffee.
I want to look at the thermostat to see just how cold it is, but I'm afraid to know the exact truth. If I gave the actual number, some of you might thing I'm a wimp. But I am not Canadian; I am a Hoosier. It's enough to know that if everything I touch (keyboard, coffee mug, teenaged son, and bathroom seat) is cold, it's really cold.
Nevertheless, "Let everything that has breath praise the Lord." Psalm 150:6. I'm praising the Lord because I have breath. I can see it.