Cold-blooded as he is, grandson David went outside to look at the eclipse of the moon. It was billed as a super blood wolf moon. It had started, but he didn’t see the total eclipse or the reddish hue that came later. We would have missed this if neighbor Marla had not posted a picture of the super moon from her house earlier in the evening. I saw the moon about to set when I got up the next morning. The camera caught it as it waved goodbye behind the mountain.
Cold was the name of the game. It was 9F (-12.8C) when we walked and 8F (-13.3) when we got back from the creek. When we chatted with Marla, walking Albert, John said, “I’ll bet Logan (8) won’t be wearing shorts today.” In a few minutes we would find it was worse than that.
When we reached our driveway, we heard Logan on his porch. The boy ran out in his pajamas, put food in the cat’s bowl, and stopped to pet the cat. We called out to hurry because of the extreme cold, and we could hear his bare feet slapping the boards as he ran back to the front door. We don’t need any official contest to know we have an Iron Boy living across the street.