Never mind the outside temperature.
It brags 12 degrees (-11 C), shame on that thermometer at 4 p.m., Sunday afternoon.
It’s shivered below zero for nights. Winter appears early in the north this year.
Barry just departed the house. ”Feels like a heat wave!” he announced (perhaps sarcastically) as he shut the door.
It’s so. Darn. Cold.
We keep feeding the hungry wood stove. One log, two logs. Three logs, four logs. Aren’t you satisfied yet, you greedy creature? Must you munch more and more and MORE?
Must we feed you every hour? Hey, don’t you know it’s only December?
Baby, it’s cold Inside.