I woke up at 7 am, and it was cold, in the low 20s, and my bed was telling me to stay put. The air in the house was chilled, and I knew it was much colder outside. Since I don’t get up as spryly as I did in my youth, I moan and groan into a pair of jeans and an old flannel shirt, putting on shoes and a jacket before daring to open the front door. Armed with a torch and newspaper, I venture out, though, and get hit with cold air as I open the door. Refusing to let this deter me, I open the garage and get some charcoal into a chimney by the smoker, lighting the newspaper and getting things going. Continue reading
