It’s around 12 or 13 F here, and according to The Oracles, that’s as warm as it’s gonna be until … Wednesday.
Guess who’s scheduled to work open->close on Tuesday? 
Awoke with a serious hankering for a cuppa tea. It’s not even the warmth … somehow, sipping on soup made from oxidized dried leaves is just soul-soothing.
So satisfying.
Almost as satisfying as lying in a comfy cocoon of blankies …
Unfortunately, as sweet and snuggly as Monkey is being, he adamantly refuses to make me any damn tea, so { sigh of woe } I think I shall hafta bestir myself soon.
I had no idea till you mentioned it.
So shove over on the “last to hear 'bout stuff” bench; we both live under the same rock.
Keeping your options open, I see.
There are many things I love about living in the sticks a small Midwestern 'Murrican town, but damn, did that post make me jealous.
Guaranteed if I asked around here for good Turkish food, I’d get blank stares.
“Turkey … food? Like, for Thanksgiving?”
Memories of four decades in the past can get a bit rose-colored.
He probably responds to both names.
“Slightly”? Sir, I feel slighted.
I snortle-laughed.
Modern poetry.
{ blinks in confusion }
Your jeans - and jammies - must fit very differently from mine.
(Jammies = loose fitting, billowy, comfy. Jeans = make my ass look good. They don’t fit over much.)
I don’t, either, but there’s gonna be some sad faces 'round the Mitten State today. (Probably hungover, too.)
I love tiny details like that.
There’s an oil painting of a hare from centuries ago, and if you look verrrrrry closely at its eye, where the light reflects … you can see a windowpane.
Using outside snow as a “fridge” is a time-honored tradition.
… so are possums, raccoons, bears, etc. helping themselves. 
(Also random passers-by and transient thieves, depending on your 'hood.)
You brought back memories of the summer I worked the car line at the dispo. There was a series of hot days, and I waited on a customer with a cage in her passenger seat, and a pair of lovebirds enjoying the A/C.
I seem to recall Sir Paul McC. wrote a song about that … ?
Bless your heart.
I think I cashed in some good karma points for the day I “delivered” their pizza for them.
Okay, that damn cuppa Lipton bag tea just will NOT nuke itself (fainting couch for the Brits is down the hall, first door on the left) so I suppose jammy-pants and a vertical nature are in my future.