That's about the dumbest question anyone can ask a guy wearing two pairs of gloves, thermal underwear, jeans, a hoodie, a long sleeved shirt, a toboggan (which some of you know as a knitted cap), a denim jacket, and a red vest with his name on it. But rest assured, they do ask. Many times a day.
I live in the South because I love the winters. They're typically short and sweet. Just enough cold to kill off the last mosquitoes still hovering above the brackish water of the gully in early December, but not cold enough to make the snot dripping from your nose freeze the moment you try to inhale. Do you know what it's like to have your optic nerve impaled by shards of ice? Talk about a brain freeze. Too bad this week isn't a great example of our "normal" winter weather. So yes, it's plenty cold enough for me. Now stop asking that stupid question and take your pine needles.
It's 16 degrees this morning. The hoophouse dropped to 27 overnight. That's a good deal of difference compared with the outdoor temperature. Some of the seeds in there need a little cold stratification. They'll get it.
I'll be working again this evening, but I have to split more firewood today. Once I get moving, it will be okay. I'm just having a hard time changing from my warm, comfy pajamas into cold, stiff work pants.
8:50am. Jeez...the temperature just dropped to 14. The sun is out. WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?
11:43am - It's 30 degrees and sunny. I've got two days worth of firewood in the basement. I'll do more tomorrow and Wednesday. The parents are coming up Saturday to help split and chop a good bit at one time. My nephew just loves running the wood splitter. More power to him.
At the end of the driveway, the containers around the edge of the pile are still frozen solid.
The ones in the middle are showing signs of melting condensation.
Obviously, there are no sprouts to speak of yet. It's only been two days. But in the garden, this silly sedum doesn't seem to care. Or maybe it's freeze dried keeping the color intact. All the others are brown clumps.