I will use the phrase “mad as a hatter” here because that is what Momma said. She said I was “mad as a hatter” when I left my warm house and went pheasant hunting this morning. She also said I am as “self destructive as a June bug.”
She has a way with words.
The temperature is negative 6 degrees Fahrenheit, but the weather report says it feels like negative 21. In my estimation, there is really not much difference. Negative 21 is nasty, that’s for sure, but negative 6 is equally capable of numbing your fingers, toes and brain.
The weatherman said it is cold today….I’m not joking here…that is what he said. I think he may have come up a little short on his description.
Cold really isn’t the right word for today. If 32 degrees is cold, then this is something beyond cold and a man really doesn’t need a thermometer to tell him so. Nor does he need a weather report.
Despite the weatherman telling me that it is cold, and despite being called a mad hatter and a June bug, I spent all morning outside anyway…numbing my fingers, toes, and brain.
From where I stand, a simple numbing of the brain is of no concern and could possibly even go undetected in guys like me. Most Power Wagon guys should be able to relate to that. We are all a little unbalanced, or, as Momma would say, “Mad as hatters.”
I may be mad as a hatter, but I’m a happy mad hatter. It could be sunny and 72 and I wouldn’t feel better than I do right now. Fenway has been on jack stands for quite some time. It felt good to have her out again. Life is good.
I think it will make a good story for the back of the magazine.
I should write it today while I feel good. Tomorrow I might have a bad cold.
She has a way with words.
The temperature is negative 6 degrees Fahrenheit, but the weather report says it feels like negative 21. In my estimation, there is really not much difference. Negative 21 is nasty, that’s for sure, but negative 6 is equally capable of numbing your fingers, toes and brain.
The weatherman said it is cold today….I’m not joking here…that is what he said. I think he may have come up a little short on his description.
Cold really isn’t the right word for today. If 32 degrees is cold, then this is something beyond cold and a man really doesn’t need a thermometer to tell him so. Nor does he need a weather report.
Despite the weatherman telling me that it is cold, and despite being called a mad hatter and a June bug, I spent all morning outside anyway…numbing my fingers, toes, and brain.
From where I stand, a simple numbing of the brain is of no concern and could possibly even go undetected in guys like me. Most Power Wagon guys should be able to relate to that. We are all a little unbalanced, or, as Momma would say, “Mad as hatters.”
I may be mad as a hatter, but I’m a happy mad hatter. It could be sunny and 72 and I wouldn’t feel better than I do right now. Fenway has been on jack stands for quite some time. It felt good to have her out again. Life is good.
I think it will make a good story for the back of the magazine.
I should write it today while I feel good. Tomorrow I might have a bad cold.
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