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Ice Age.

I’m sorry, was my flight redirected to the Arctic Circle or something?  Because it’s a little chilly here in Belfast.

Not that I expected it to be hot of course, but stepping onto Irish soil from the much anticipated flight to Dublin was a little like jumping into an ice bath which you merely expected to be luke-warm due to the four layers you were wearing at the time.

I digress.  At least I’m home, right?  Home a cold, broken man, but home nonetheless.  I beat you this time, snow.  See you on January 10th for round 2.

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