I’ve never been one for “records”.

And I don’t mean the vinyl kind,  although I never did have a lot of those either.   Still have them by the way.  Sitting in one of those milk cartons somewhere tucked into a corner of a bedroom in our house in Canada.   Never quite sure what to do with them,  although it seems that vinyl has made enough of a comeback,  that maybe I could make a couple bucks at a garage sale at some point.   Mind you,  I probably should check with either one of our daughters on that one first,  since I may just be selling off something that could be considered a “prised heirloom”,   although I find that whole notion somewhat laughable.

Speaking of laughable,  does anyone remember the old milk cartons that were just the absolute perfect size for LP storage?   We were so poor and had so little furniture,  that at one point I recall having a few of them cobbled together to act as end tables.   Oh ya,  good times!  (*rolls eyes*)  Hey,  it worked!  And this is probably why I really had difficulty going to a place like Ikea and buying “dressers”,  knowing full well that they’d simply fall apart in due time.   Such cr*p,  and such a waste.   But we needed something.   And I didn’t have any spare milk cartons.

 

Where was I?

 

Right.  Records.

I’m not sure if we’ve set any yet,  but we’re getting there.

 

We’ve gone from this:

 

Which turned into this:

 

 

(this was the summer of 2010 by the way)

 

 

To This:

 

They do like to use that word, “lahm”,  don’t they??  

I suppose literally it means “lame”,  as in “Ein lahmes Bein haben”,  which is to have a lame leg,  but it has other meanings like “weak”.  “Meine Beine waren ganz lahm”,  which is “my legs were quite weak”,   and even “boring”.   So if you say,  “Mensch du bist so lahm!”   You’re saying,  “Man,  you’re boring!”  

 

I’m not sure I can quite picture myself saying that last one.  Best not to hang around boring folk in the first place.   And if you did,  why would you want to point out such a thing?  “Mr. Boring” might decide to break up the boredom by beating the cr*p out of you.    Just a thought.

Such a tough language to translate.  Really.

 

So there you have it I suppose.  It was a tad nippy again this morning.

Yes,  that is this morning’s take on the ‘thermometer news’.  No point sugar coating it.    But hey,  it was sunny out!

Plus, we’re LUCKY!   We’re lucky we’re not in part of the Ukraine,  where I was watching a little video that showed the outside temperature hovering around minus 42.  

Say that slowly for effect.  MINUS.   FORTY.. TWO.

You’ll note that I’ve neither put that in Celsius nor Fahrenheit,  since at those temperatures it matters not a damn.   They sort of join up down there somewhere.

If that were the case here,  I’d have to get a different thermometer.  Or start packing.   Ya,  I think that would be the plan.   The airplanes don’t mind the cold.

 

Ya so,  we’re lucky, since we’re still apparently in ‘two wheel temperature’,  and I noticed more than one brave soul out on two wheels this morning:

 

I was only going at a walking pace and my face was hurting.  I even saw one Dude riding his bike with no gloves on.   He was too old to be trying to be “cool” too.  Maybe he had lost all feeling in his hands anyway,  and had given up?    Didn’t get a picture,  since the whole ‘get the camera out,  take my gloves off,  turn the camera on’  thing just takes a wee bit too much time for some events.  You’ll have to use your imagination.

 

I did,  once upon a time,  find myself riding the bike into town when we were in the Netherlands in similar conditions.   We experienced the coldest January that they had had in 10 years.   Of course,  it was just as well that I didn’t look at the temperature first,  since I might not have gone out.   I only remember coming back and thinking,  “F**k it’s cold out!!  I wonder what the temperature is?”    

And then I looked.

And it was minus 10°C.  

And yes,  when I’m frozen almost through and through,  I have been known to have blasphemous thoughts.   Sorry,  but it’s the truth.   Hey,  I spent over 20 years as a Caretaker,  and I’ve cleaned up my act considerably but just the same,  once in a while a little sputum has been known to come out of my gob.

 

So what does this mean?   The cold followed us to the Netherlands.  It’s followed us to Vienna.   So if we were to show up at Miami airport,  would the authorities put the cuffs on us and warn all the citrus growers?  

I’m just starting to wonder is all.   The cold can make a person think crazy thoughts.

 

Speaking of thoughts…  Keeping your stick on the ice isn’t that far fetched at this point.

 

Thanks for lookin’.

 

 

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