0 degrees (or damned close to it)

I read somewhere of an artist who actually prefers to paint dying flowers - and if you look beyond the ordinary - Plant, Flower, Brown - sequence, there is something sad but still beautiful about the shrivelled bloom that once was proud in it's glory.

LIke a childhood in Quebec, for instance.

Or my waistline, for that matter.

Meanwhile, note to self - bring the houseplants in.