Weather: Takes a licking
I don't have to lick my finger and hold it to the breeze, but my sense for guessing temperatures just keeps on ticking. Molley wanted to go out at 3 a.m. and I guessed it was 39 degrees -- I was even getting chilled in my flipflops, jeans, and flannel shirt before her snizzin' was dizzin' -- then came in to find that 39 was right on the money.
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