Baby its cold outside at PumpjackPiddlewick

We’re enjoying a cold snap. And I do say enjoying (sort of) as after all it is winter, and winter has connotations of cold. At least to me.

I grew up in the northern hemisphere, in cold places. And its funny how that dictated where I have travelled. Having done one of those trip advisor maps, where you put pins in all the places you have visited, I realised that I had a predilection to head north. Weird.

Once knowing this, I started to aim south. At least, a little. I am not a hot climate person. Call it being a redhead (can’t sun bathe, don’t tan, only burn) that probably has me inclined towards cooler climes. But I have discovered, as I have moved and lived in some warmer climates that I do prefer less cold. I know I prefer less snow. Or actually not so much less snow as less long living slush. That is something I don’t miss.

And now we have found the perfect climate – for us. Well, as close as one gets to perfect. Which is not, but we are happy with it. Of course, there are always things one would wish less of (frosts, fog, rain…), but then again the diversity makes one appreciate the preferred more.

Cold is necessary. It make the trees and plants go dormant, so they can be pruned where necessary, and grow better, be stronger next year. It makes the foxes in our area go into hibernation, which our ducks appreciate.

And speaking about ducks, did you know that ducks have no nerve endings in their feet? This helps with standing on frozen ground or ice (though they can get stuck to it, if too wet and cold). If you see a duck sitting in winter, you know its cold out. They can get frostbite on their feet, so to keep them warm, they sit on them when it is cold.

Now our Maggie isn’t too bothered about cold. She’s a pudgy little thing, which means she, like most ducks, has a layer of fat to keep her warm. What she hates is rain. Cold is okay if there is no rain. Rain, sleet or snow brings Maggie and her bodyguard, George, to our door telling us ‘we want in’!

So here I sit as I write this, with Maggie sitting next to me on her stool and George sitting underneath the sofa. Beaks are tucked in feathers as they settle down for their mid-day nap. Energies rejuvenated, sun warming up (a little) the outside, they will be ready to venture forth into the cold once again after waking up.

And apropos of nothing, except I like the (Dean Martin version of the) song and it goes with today’s musings…

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