BRR
It’s cold cold cold here in the Midwest this week. How cold is it? “It’s so cold the witches’ tits all stayed home,” an old farmer I knew used to say. (Using today’s readings I’m going to say this translates, in meteorological terms, to a wind chill of approximately 23 degrees below zero in the greater Omaha metropolitan area).
In short, a perfect day to get a fire crackling, pour a piping hot cup of antifreeze, and curl up with a book, which I plan to do this evening. On deck: Case Histories by Kate Atkinson, which has been waiting on my shelf for awhile, or the new Charlie Huston, which somehow climbed into my car earlier this afternoon. A coin toss will determine. Or guilt my formidable work ethic will drive me to the laptop for some more work on the manuscript-in-progress.
Whatever happens, it’s really cold outside. Tell me how cold it is in your neck of the woods right here—a copy of my last book, The Cleanup, which takes place during the aftermath of a good old-fashioned Nebraska blizzard, to the winner. Entries judged by sophisticated computers me.
Stay warm everybody,
SD
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