Baymule
Herd Master
No looked pretty good to me, that is my area. I read it as No Snow. The next layer said one, ok, it’s gonna snow one time. Still good. I started to get a glimmer of the ever elusive intelligence when the purple layer said has….
Baymule
Herd Master
I’m the frozen Dalmatian too. Southern magnolia here, Texas Tough when it comes to heat, bundled up in 15 layers of warm clothing when it drops to freezing.
I don't like cold anymore. Last night I got my fuzzy slippers out of the closet, am wearing them today.
SageHill
Herd Master
That cold you all are talking about -- not for me. Been there, lived in it, got the stories of 20 below, falling icicles, snow angels, snow forts, frozen toes and fingers 
, and that's why I'm here in sunny So Cal.
, and that's why I'm here in sunny So Cal.
That cold you all are talking about -- not for me. Been there, lived in it, got the stories of 20 below, falling icicles, snow angels, snow forts, frozen toes and fingers
Eastern NC blizzard...once a year, if that...and usually no more than 2". And it melts the next day.
SageHill
Herd Master
HA! I'll match you and raise you one.....View attachment 122279
Eastern NC blizzard...once a year, if that...and usually no more than 2". And it melts the next day.
Married in '79, got the last plane out of O'Hare to honeymoon (in Jamaica), airport closed for a week, came back on one of the first planes to fly in after the closure, got to our apartment and could not find my car. Found it, with footprints over the top of it, under a drift of snow. There's a pic somewhere, though the paper it's printed on may have disintegrated.
canesisters
Herd Master
HAS the next ice age started
ANY sun would be appreciated
IDEAl weather for outdoor sports
Weldman
Herd Master
The other night, I was invited out for a girls’ night—just a few drinks, a little gossip, and a promise to my husband: “I’ll be home by midnight, I swear!”
Well, famous last words.
The margaritas were flowing like a fountain of questionable decisions, and before I knew it, 3 a.m. had rudely arrived. I was definitely a little… okay, a lot tipsy. But no worries—I had a plan.
As I tiptoed through the front door, the cuckoo clock in the hallway let out a loud Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!—blaring my lateness like a tattletale.
Panic set in. My husband was a light sleeper, and this was not the time for a marital debate. Thinking quickly, I did the only logical thing: I cuckooed nine more times.
Genius, right? Midnight = 12 cuckoos. Crisis averted. Even in my margarita-fueled state, I had just outsmarted time itself!
The next morning, I casually sipped my coffee, acting like the devoted wife who totally got home at midnight. My husband, reading the paper, glanced up and asked, “What time did you get in last night?”
With the confidence of a world-class poker player, I smiled and said, “Midnight!”
He nodded. No suspicion. No questions. I had pulled it off!
Then, without looking up, he said, “We need a new cuckoo clock.”
My stomach dropped. Oh no.
Trying to sound normal, I asked, “Why?”
He put his coffee down and said, “Well, last night, our cuckoo clock cuckooed three times… then said ‘Oh ****’… cuckooed four more times… cleared its throat… cuckooed another three times… giggled… cuckooed twice more… then tripped over the coffee table and farted.”
Busted."
Well, famous last words.
The margaritas were flowing like a fountain of questionable decisions, and before I knew it, 3 a.m. had rudely arrived. I was definitely a little… okay, a lot tipsy. But no worries—I had a plan.
As I tiptoed through the front door, the cuckoo clock in the hallway let out a loud Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!—blaring my lateness like a tattletale.
Panic set in. My husband was a light sleeper, and this was not the time for a marital debate. Thinking quickly, I did the only logical thing: I cuckooed nine more times.
Genius, right? Midnight = 12 cuckoos. Crisis averted. Even in my margarita-fueled state, I had just outsmarted time itself!
The next morning, I casually sipped my coffee, acting like the devoted wife who totally got home at midnight. My husband, reading the paper, glanced up and asked, “What time did you get in last night?”
With the confidence of a world-class poker player, I smiled and said, “Midnight!”
He nodded. No suspicion. No questions. I had pulled it off!
Then, without looking up, he said, “We need a new cuckoo clock.”
My stomach dropped. Oh no.
Trying to sound normal, I asked, “Why?”
He put his coffee down and said, “Well, last night, our cuckoo clock cuckooed three times… then said ‘Oh ****’… cuckooed four more times… cleared its throat… cuckooed another three times… giggled… cuckooed twice more… then tripped over the coffee table and farted.”
Busted."
Mini Horses
Herd Master
