When I moved to my first farm, my farmer neighbors scoffed at Weather broadcasts as a weakness. They told me to look up at the sky, and I would know what kind of weather was coming. I tried to emulate them, guessing the temperatures and forecasts myself. “My father never thought the weather was dangerous,”  said one, “until we got a TV set.” I admired the farmers, their macho and independence. Later, I gave up on the idea of being macho; it was hopeless, but I stayed away from weather forecasts. I relied instant on a rusting and ancient outdoor thermometer hung outside the kitchen window about the time of the Civil War War, I guessed.

I was doing well until climate change upended everyone’s weather projections. Then, a few weeks ago, a blog reader suggested I was stretching it when I said the temperature one morning was zero by social media standards; that hurt a bit. It’s time to get some help – the Weather Channel.

The donkeys know what to do—they stand outside, facing the sun, absorbing it into their coats. They don’t move a bit all day. Zip has the same habit; when it’s cold and the sun is out, he soaks up by being still. Like the donkey’s, his coat is always warm if the sun is out. Outdoor animals – the sheep, two, and barn cats soak up the sun. When it’s raining, we never see them.

So, I signed up for the Weather Channel, something I have avoided ever since living on a farm. There is a lot of junk on the Weather Channel, things I don’t want or need to read. But one thing about it that seems reliable is the temperature.

When I wake up, I turn on the Weather Channel app on my Iphone. My farmer neighbors all seem to have weather apps now; they insist there is no shame in it. “They get the temperature pretty good,” one of the old geezers told me.

So when I wake up, the very first thing I do is look for the temperature. It was okay when I rushed outside with my camera; they weren’t kidding. It was biting cold, numbing cold. I wore a jacket, but my slippers did me a little good.

Just now, I looked, and it was 10. I can brag about that all I want. Not bad for an older man, I thought. I tried taking some photos to capture the cold – not easy; there’s a blue sky with bright clouds.

St. Joseph, whose forecast I trust much more than the weather people, says it will warm up by Christmas. He says it will still be cold, but not zero.

My camera froze up on me this morning. That was a first.