And this gets me out of a workout tonight.

It's 8:10 or so this morning.  The sun's been up about ten minutes; the temperature is 18.3 F on my back porch.  Sweats, jeans, t-shirt, sweat shirt, hoodie, coat.  Sock cap, hood up, gloves on.

All the way up the walk to the front of the complex; across the new bridge to the trail.  Five inches of snow, and one set of footprints.

Getting winded...

As I trudge along the path, Scrappy dances through the deep snow, limpy-gimpy and all.

Dig, dig, dig... I know you're down there somewhere...

I'm getting pooped.  Where is that walk-bridge back home?

Stumble down the trail, slide down the ditch.  Trip over the footbridge, march back home.  8:50 AM, 19.9 degrees F.