It was -50 Sunday morning and -50 again yesterday morning, but luckily it warmed up to -46 this morning. I always love that slight delay filled with silence when you turn the ignition in these temps and are left wondering for that split second if the engine is going to turn over.
My winter moose is back eating all the willows. With the snow up to the level of my little deck, the moose tried to climb aboard last night and found that hooves on snow covered lumber do not go well together. The resulting crash shook the entire cabin.
The sliding hoof marks in the snow dust are still there.
At around 2am I was awaken by the sound of mortar fire and howling sled dogs. Eventually I climbed out of bed and took a peek out a frosty window to see glowing balls of flame shooting up into the night sky. I processed the scene for a moment and came to the conclusion that the moose had jumped a fence and had been caught eating the neighbor’s trees. I stumbled back towards the bed, turning a fan on full-bore as I passed.
Around 3pm this afternoon, I received a phone call, and was asked if I had any fireworks sitting around not being used.
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