How's it going in the frigid north, Gnu? Are all systems (heat, power, water) working and I hope your mother is comfortable.

What a winter. That deer hunt poem of Rap's sounds like Robert Service-envy.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee,
where the cotton blooms and blows
Why he left his home in the South to roam
'round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold but the land of gold
seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he'd often say in his homely way
that he'd sooner live in Hell.