It snowed.

Two days after Christmas, it snowed.

The mammoth rocks, the river rock, the pea gravel, they be a-shiverin’. That’s pirate-speak for cold, baby, cold!

It’s snowing right now.

Mama Weather is having mood swings. One day it’s nippy. Like today. Today, it’s a nippy 9 Faren, factoring in the wind chill. And who doesn’t do that? It’s all about the wind chill.

Moving on.

The next day, it’s 43 Faren and riding-with-the-top-down-crank-up-the-barbecue weather in my neck of Canadaland.

I never do that. Nope. Not me.

I’m in my post-Christmas-barreling-toward-New-Year haze. My hair is standing up and out in all directions. Stick me in the ground out in the barrens and I could be a signpost — Christmas 15 km that way ←. New Year 4 km this way →. You’ve just entered Big Butt City roundabout Ο. Welcome to Food Coma… straight ahead ↑.

Seasonal indulgence has me staring at my morning decaffeine and thinking… Dollop of Dooley’s or splash of Bailey’s?

Not that I would ever do that. Nope. Not me.

Seriously, I can barely choke down a Vit D tab in the morning.

But I thought it.

After a week of evening coffee that was high octane and laced with D or B, I thought it.

Thought. It.

Confession for sure.

I have owl eyes.

I’m ready for routine.

Ready to shuffle out of my fuzzy slippers into some leather with serious tread and kick some 2012 butt.

You?