Even though I joke about this, when living in New England (wherabouts I just moved to again) the months of December, and then January and then on to February and a little of March were just killer. Dark dark, snow, cold, dark.
Why did I move back here again?
Treadmills are always ripe for humor. You’re running but not going anywhere, the possibilities for gags are endless. Which is why you have to wait for special times, such as those involving a moose.