Alas, 'tis four degrees,
6" to 8" of snow. Cars
a slip and slide outside.
I'm feeling scared; not
sure why. Winter isn't
supposed to start 'til
the 21st.
Yikes!
My guy wakes up,
sees how upset I feel
with this god-awful
weather. He informs
me . . . "What you
need is some . . .
. . . champagne."
I'm keeping him,
make no mistake!
Who ever had
champagne at o'
dark thirty?!
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