The temperature having reached a lofty minus 3 degrees, I ventured outside into the dark this evening to shovel snow from my front sidewalk. (Hey, old ladies walk it on their way to early morning mass at the nearby Cathedral!) As is my practice, I shoveled snow from half of my neighbor's sidewalks as well. (I leave the other halves to them ... I'm tough that way.)
The cold isn't really a factor out there while you are tossing snow this way and that, although the hood on my parka sort of flaps, mussing my pretty hair and exposing my ears. But, hey, the snow must go.
There are those who would latch onto my Montana-winter experience, and suggest that, therefore, global warming is a myth. I would suggest looking at a rather bigger picture - say, those glaciers that aren't there anymore, or the rising sea levels. Still, as I make popcorn and melt butter in the microwave oven until it just starts to drip, my toes still feel sort of cold. I understand the need for earthlings to wise up about global warming. It's those dumb extremities that still need convincing.