6pm, and it is -3 F and 75% humidity. My hands are pins and needle tingling just from walking in from the car.
Because it's Sunday, the plows haven't been out, and there are very few places on the roads where you can actually see the pavement. Nobody's driving faster than 25, and for once in my type-A, speed-demon, boy-racer life I absolutely agree with them.
Boulder might as well be Anchorage right now. The only thing we need is a moose wandering down main street...