_____________________________________________
From: Steve Taylor [mailto:spt@thetaylorcompany.net]
Sent: Wednesday, December 07, 2005 10:08 PM
To: Bill Taylor (E-mail); David Taylor (E-mail); Tom Taylor (E-mail)
Subject: winter Annie loves the cold and snow. She dashes outside, puts her face in the
snow, then runs as fast as she can, a furry snowplow, snorting. She jumps
to catch any snowball tossed, then stops cold, so to speak, when she
suddenly discovers that her feet hurt and she can’t go on. Until the next
time out.
Weather
So far so good. Ice-cold outside. Forty-five degrees in the basement.
Toasty seventy-two degrees inside. Revised forecast: seven below tonight. I guess we want to know if we stay
warm and the pipes all work in cold weather…, but seven below? I think
it’s time to head south soon.
Golden
The wind storm is over. Now it’s six degrees and snowing lightly. Much
nicer than the wind storm. As far as we know, we did not sustain any wind damage. The data dish is
back up and functioning. It doesn’t appear that any pieces blew off the
outside of the motorhome or any slide awnings ripped. They flapped and
buzzed and roared, but they didn’t rip. Some friends here had their door yanked out of their hands and twisted by
the wind. Other people froze up and couldn’t get in or out and had to break
things. Some people’s water systems froze and broke overnight. Giant brown
icicles under their rigs. Yuk. The windstorm was rough on some of the fifth wheel trailers. It made them
creep until the jacks bent or broke. Fifth wheel trailers are not as heavy
as motorhomes. Life on the road.
Golden
Dressed up for the holidays.
Golden
Dressed up for the Bronco game.