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OK, brothers and sisters, it's cold enough already, even for your friendly Southern California polar bear (that would be me). It's huffed and puffed for the last hour or so and zoomed up to a not-toasty 43 degrees. I can remember a time in my life when 43 would have seemed balmy, but that was a long time ago. Now it's just quite chilly.

I went for my walk when the sun was still below the horizon, the few remaining clouds lit from below. Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

Until I passed a house where (I found out later) the indoor cat had just gotten out, the lady in a nightgown screeched for me to grab the cat. I scooped it up as it tried to dart past me and handed it back to her. Needless to say it was truly annoyed at being balked in its escape plans and I was glad I was wearing a heavy long sleeved sweater and sweatshirt.

The rest of the walk was quiet, with my breaths fogging up my glasses, and the world still and silent. Not much action at 6:25 on a Saturday morning in December. Lovely.

Time to see if the coffee has finished brewing and feed the cat. Why on earth do they have their "crazy time" early in the morning? She's just bouncing off the walls. In 30 minutes or so, she will settle down for her 4 hour winter's nap. Meanwhile....

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