Cold Spell

All I know is it doesn't feel at all like global warming is taking hold. I have the distinct belief that the polar creatures are actually migrating to more southern latitudes tot get warm; I just can't except the new scientific orthodoxy that the ice caps are melting---just the reverse. In fact, I wouldn't at all be surprised to see cold glacial til out my door tomorrow morning. I just have to wonder aloud whether that climatologist Al Gore might have gotten his figures inverted, and it was actually cosmic cooling that was going on. Call me paranoid but with such dips in the thermometer I have to firm up my faith that the sun has no broken filaments. That though it expends 400,000 tons of matter a second into energy, most of which is subject to the draftiness of space in the long trek, some 91 million miles of cold firmament, still has enough leftover for our little planet. But how can one be so complacent not to have our faith in the helios shaken on such frigid days? After all, the sun is not obligated to shine and heat this little home we call earth, is it? What if indeed it ran out of fuel? Don't things run out after awhile? And 400,000 tons a second is not a trifle. I mean if the sun quits it won't really matter if you turn your thermostat higher, or if you duct tape the cracks in your rickety windows, or place an old bath towel across the threshold of the door to keep the draft from committing home invasion. Thus, I wish to thank the Fuel Man who has provided us with this heating source called the sun. He doesn't need to continually maintain it. He didn't even need to install it in the first place. But I must say that when the burner's settings are turned down so low I am more disposed to be thankful for it; and thankful most especially for the Furnace Man that is always on call and knows his business of how to heat a planet. And imagine, he doesn't even charge for all his oversight of that burner...or the fuel---and once 2000 years ago he even made a house call.