Weirdness in a Couple o' Flavors

Forgive us our preoccupation with the weather, Gentle Reader.  I, speaking as a majority of one, feel quite like I'm overcome with a mild form of temporary insanity.  We're just past the noon hour and only recently nudged ourselves over the zero degree F mark, and only by two insignificant ticks of the thermometer.  The wind is still doin' her wild banshee act and the windchill effect makes outdoor activities of any sort problematic if not life-threatening.  That's NOT hyperbole.

Here's a view of the tundra-like landscape from my hotel room window:

Dang.  You'd think we were in Irkutsk or something.  Not that I've ever been there... but Siberia does come to mind.

Speaking of minds... it works in weird ways.  For some strange reason I've had this stupid '80s techno-pop confection running through my brain ever since I opened the curtains this morning:

"View from a bridge" (the song) isn't anything like a view from my window (the reality) nor is it a "view from the fridge" (a former reality, in a manner of speaking).  I told ya the mind works in strange ways, didn't I? 

I mentioned late last night I was gonna have to go over to El Casa Móvil De Pennington to check on things and stuff, retrieve some beer, yadda, yadda.  But I can't make myself do it.  Nope, we will not venture out in two-degree weather with unholy and gawd-awful wind chills.  Life isn't at stake here, no one is gonna die if I don't go out.  So I won't.  "And you can't MAKE me," adds my Inner Child.