Category: 
Traction Control, reporting from Mordor.
It’s cold here.
The kind of cold where the snow doesn’t crunch, but squeaks with a sound like twisting a balloon when you walk or drive on it. That sound is made by the breaking of ice bonds within the snow under the weight of footsteps or tires.
I stepped outside and inhaled once and felt my nose hairs freeze. I exhaled and felt my breath freeze my moustache. So, in the interest of scientific experimentation, I spit.
At that time, the temperature was -26 degrees C. The spit landed in liquid form (which froze later).
My Canadian co-workers say, “It isn’t cold yet.”
I’ll report back when spit freezes in air and bounces when it lands, and ask them again,
“Is it cold, yet?”
The answer I expect is, “Nope”.
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