Hotter'n Hell Yesterday, Freeze Yer Biscuits Off Today

To Real Chilly Peppers:



As typical north Texas fickle-hearted weather, last Saturday was so hot, you could get a sunburn just sittin' in the shade. Today, courtesy of our first artic cold front, we have sleet, snow and ice, with an overnight low forecasted to around 18 degrees. You know the old sayin' "If you don't like the weather, just wait 15 minutes and it'll change."

That's why my clothes closet has cute little sling-back tees hanging next to heavy alpaca wool sweaters. You never know 'round here what the day will bring; go to work in your summer breezies, come home in the evening with the winter freezies.

So, for the next 24 hours, the dogs will be in the house and the turtle has a mini-condo in the garage. Oh goody, a roaring fire, fuzzy slippers, hot cider...and air-funkin' dog farts!

"Whooo-weee, Pattie, what DID you feed them critters?

Better move them dogs away from the fire a bit, else they're liable to set the mantle ablaze and our cherished collection of Christmas nutcrackers will fry into blackened voodoo sticks like somethin' from the secret back room at the Bourbon Street shop of Marie LaVeau."

Have a holly jolly gris-gris...

Uh oh. I just spied the first casualty of housebound Rusty, the half Rhodesian ridgeback-half boxer loveable mix: Kman's favorite "Johnny Cash" black felt hat has done been given a custom air vent, complete with chew marks:


(Photo is purely representative, not the handsome Kman)

Better hide that sucker under the couch for a while, or else we'll be down to one dog, the pocket rottweiler, Max.



My feet are freezin', and my ears are cold, so guess it's time to: PUT ANOTHER LOG ON THE FIRE, BABE!

Put another log on the fire.
Cook me up some bacon and some beans.
And go out to the car and change the tyre.
Wash my socks and sew my old blue jeans.
Come on, baby, you can fill my pipe,
And then go fetch my slippers.
And boil me up another pot of tea.
Then put another log on the fire, babe,
And come and tell me why you're leaving me.

Now don't I let you wash the car on Sunday?
Don't I warn you when you're gettin fat?
Ain't I a-gonna take you fishin' with me someday?
Well, a man can't love a woman more than that.
Ain't I always nice to your kid sister?
Don't I take her driving every night?
So, sit here at my feet 'cos I like you when you're sweet,
And you know it ain't feminine to fight.

So, put another log on the fire.
Cook me up some bacon and some beans.
Go out to the car and lift it up and change the tyre.
Wash my socks and sew my old blue jeans.
Come on, baby, you can fill my pipe,
And then go fetch my slippers.
And boil me up another pot of tea.
Then put another log on the fire, babe,
And come and tell me why you're leaving me.