It began in a coffee shop where the heating was broken.  Sitting in winter with my four layers of shirt, sweater, down jacket and shell (plus a toque on my head) … shivering.

This isn’t right.

Wondering how cold I really was, I bought a tiny thermometer on Amazon.  The answer: 14° Celsius (57° Fahrenheit).

I don’t go to that coffee shop anymore.  I’ll probably return when they fix things. 

Now I lounge in a new place – Lloyd Coffee Eatery.  Very nice … and adequately warm.  I’ve started a ritual of pulling out my thermometer as I sit down, even though I’m confident about the heat.

Fifteen minutes ago, fresh from the outside world, the display said 9.3°.  The photo shows 18.7°.  And now it’s 19.8°, heading to 20.

As well as writing these words, I’ve been observing the progression of numbers.  It feels akin to another favourite pastime of mine – watching my clothes turn over in the drier.

Oh … now it’s 20.1!

One more time I am fascinated with my mind.  Wouldn’t it be more worthwhile to read an inspiring Buddhist article in Tricycle magazine?

I’ll keep my response short …

No