WHAT A WINTER: Arctic, Polar, Siberian, whatever

I don't remember it being this cold since the early 1990s, when the wooden shingles on the roof started creaking, a truly eerie sound in the early morning. The roof has been replaced since then, and it hasn't made any noises yet, but the wooden steps on the back deck almost shriek when you step on them. I'm sure you're hearing the same stories of woe that I am, about frozen pipes and water troughs and dead batteries.
I'm spending the minimum time possible outdoors, for obvious reasons. I even timed a stop at the gas station to coincide with the warmest part of the day, knowing I'd be standing in the Landhope parking lot while pumping my 14 gallons.
On the other hand, my favorite errand-running companion refuses to change his habit of parking as far away as possible in parking lots, no matter how cold and windy it is.
Whenever I suggest that perhaps we could park just a little closer, he wastes no time in pointing out the inconsistency in my thinking: "You go to the gym ten times a week!" Why, yes, that was us, jogging hand-in-gloved-hand across the parking lot at Lowe's against the biting wind. 
But take heart! I saw a snowdrop in bloom in a sheltered part of the garden. Absolutely no signs of the hellebores yet, though. And inside, the amaryllis is finally blooming, and beautifully.