One of the side effects of not being able to get down to Virginia for Christmas this year was that of not having to drive back during, or in the aftermath of, the Boxing Day Blizzard that blanketed the Northeast. We ran errands early on Sunday to make sure we had enough food (and other staples) in the house to last a few days, then settled in for the duration.

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The weather outside has been relatively mild the past couple of weeks -- but you'd hardly know it from looking at me. I've been fairly consistently wearing base layers underneath my short-sleeved workshirts, multiple layers of polar fleece indoors, consuming more commercially-made soup than is good for me, drinking copious amounts of coffee, and still feeling chilled and unable to warm up.

Lest you think it's all in my head, my hands have been turning blackish from my fingernails to my knuckles -- and my toes, likewise. It's not the first autumn that I've had to deal with these issues, but it seems ridiculous that I should have to wear base layers designed to be worn for outdoor winter sports (these garments actually come with warnings to not wear them in conditions over 55 degrees Fahrenheit!) indoors just to keep from constantly shivering, yawning, and doing everything else that suggests I'm running borderline hypothermic. (READ MORE)

Good grief, it's been hot here. Depending on which bank I was driving past, it was either 99, 101 or 103 today. Any one of them is too freakin' hot, especially for early June and most especially for New England. My Yankee bones don't like that kind of temperature one little bit.

Nor do Olivia's. She's been miserable the last few days. Weather had a lot to do with it and I've been making sure she's checking her blood sugars frequently and staying well hydrated. Her numbers haven't been great, but I don't know whether I can attribute that to the weather or to the fact that she just got dumped by her boyfriend.

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