Few hours ago it was more than minus thirty at Kvilda!
My grandpa is often talking about the winter in 1929, the winter he was born, when the layer of rime on the inside walls of his house was thick as a fist and his pistolino was blue as blueberries.
Will this winter beat it?
Anyway, the poor land here around Brno is suffering - there's no snow at all! So here's a snowman, for all of us who miss cross country skiing and crunching of the snow under their feet.