*sigh* I'm loosing my touch. (Warning: Hi-jacked by Em)

Cold, yes.


But it wasn't SNOWING that day.

Often cold here. I keep my extra wooly long johns on
to about June.

(For poor Banty and Sour, who so wanted to peek under
the sheet, now you know.)

Spook often cold. The wind just blows right through my
sheet some days.
 
Spook is frequently 'snowed in'.


I do not consider what spook gets to be considered snow.
Heck, the snow is the only thing that Spook and you have in common.


Well, I'm pretty sure we also have a love of brownies as a common interest.

Sure it snows in Ohio.

But not to the extent Alaskan or Banty Boy would consider snow.

Northern Ohio, Central Ohio get way more snow than I do. Think it
snowed three times this winter to put a dust on the ground.  East
winter.

Didn't use the snowplow even once this year.

But I have seen snow here ankle deep...horrible winter that was.



If I go any further south the alligators will get me.
If I go any further north the mooses will get me.

My point exactly.

It isn't "snow" until you have at least a metre.

Fairly sure that's a lie. It was like -234 degrees when I went there

-234? With all due respect, Queen Em, I'd bet it doesn't even hit -10c much.

Cold, yes.


But it wasn't SNOWING that day.

Often cold here. I keep my extra wooly long johns on
to about June. 

(For poor Banty and Sour, who so wanted to peek under
the sheet, now you know.)

Spook often cold.  The wind just blows right through my
sheet some days.

Just gotta wait until til June :pop

It DID snow. I saw flakes of that Devil's Dandruff as I hightailed my butt back to the good Old South where I belong.

Chooks loves Queen Em and her baking so much that I will come fry myself to a crisp if it means I get doughnuts.
 
Fry yourself to a crisp Banty? Now what tales have you heard about The South?




(Edited because one should always treat The South as a proper noun.)
 
Last edited:
Fry yourself to a crisp Banty? Now what tales have you heard about The South?




(Edited because one should always treat The South as a proper noun.)
Tales of 90* weather being normal.

Tales of grass turning brown in summer.

Tales of it hitting 80* in January.

Tales of it getting up to 110*.
 

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