Along the south shore of Newfoundland I met an old fellow who, upon my commenting on how thick the fog was that day, replied, "Dat's notting me son - you ain't seen fog 'til you been to Trepassey where I'm from. I ne'er seen me mudder 'til I was eight mont's ol' ! An' wind sir ! We use to tether the chickens on a ca'm day. One time, a real blow come on and we gathered all we could but the ol' rooster was left out overnight. Next morn he was a sight b'y. The tethered leg was straight out to the side li'dat ( standing on one leg, with the other straight out, he leaned over to the laughter of all present ) and there were nare a fether on 'im. So the ol' woman knitted him a pair o' coveralls ( much more laughter from the group ). You t'inks dat's funny, you shoulda seen him wit a hol' o' a hen, tryin' to get the damn t'ings off !!!!