Wish it would make up its mind. Know it won't, but wish it would.

So Monday was gloriosky beautiful, like I said. Sometime Monday night the wind started blowing, and to experience a wind like this you have to go to the plains of Wyoming or, you know, here.

Howling wind. "Is the Lair going to stay upright" wind. "Would you damned Greek gods stop playing around up there so I can get some sleep" wind.

All gone by daylight, which is when the clouds rolled in. Mighty, "Thor Is Pissed" clouds. I figured I'd better get where I was going and get my shit-shoveling out of the way, because most of the snow is gone and I can do a better job of cleaning the enclosures now than they got last Friday. So I rushed.

The enclosures are still so sloppy it took me three hours, and for every minute of those three I thought the clouds were just gonna fall right down and squash me. Nothing happened. A little cold wind, but that was all. When it finally did snow, I don't think it laid down as much as half an inch. What a gyp.

Then the clouds went away, just in time for sundown, and you know what that means. I didn't climb out of my sleeping bag until 7:30, when I was afraid one of the boys might actually explode all over me. Ghost was fair frantic about it, and then I couldn't get the door open. The latch had frozen shut in the housing. Stuck!

For the first time in my entire life I blessed the fact that that miserable door fits so loosely in its frame. I didn't even need a slim-jim: I levered the latch open with a screwdriver.

Ghost probably would have paused to express his gratitude, but he was in too much of a hurry. Little Bear was right behind him, his hind legs firmly crossed the whole way.

I keep reminding myself that we don't actually live outside Bemidji, and that this'll most likely only last another six weeks or so.