Chris in Kamloops, British Columbia
Even Jack the Ripper would have found the fog on the river this morning a bit too thick for his work down in nineteenth-century Whitechapel. Unlike other mornings, it stayed thick and it stayed cold and I stayed miserable.
And became even more miserable after my Canadian friend had sent me this photo of himself in a pair of shorts and complaining about the heat in Kanuckistan. He loves chipping away at ice like bloody Amundsen and to him winter is like heaven on earth. For me it's the biblical opposite. I want winter as much as I want to join the Hitler Youth.
I think I will spend the rest of the day close to the fireplace while drinking a traditional hops-containing beverage effervesced with carbon dioxide.
Cheers!
