It was definitely freezing cold.He pulled on clothes quickly, putting both of his warmest windbreakers on, and two pairs of socks as well, then propped himself up on his crutches.After pissing and washing his hands in freezing water, he went into the kitchen. It was warmer there, with a fire roaring in the stove and the kettle on the hub, steaming faintly, but it was the sight out of the kitchen windows that he couldn't quite believe and that made him hobble to the back door as fast as he could.For as far as he could see, everything was blanketed in white. It wasn't snow, at least not when he looked down at the ground below the verandah. A thick layer of hail stones ranging in size from tiny to fist-sized, lay at least ten centimeters deep on the ground, and covered everything, including tree branches.It was freezing cold outside, even compared to his bedroom, and he shivered inside his layers of clothes. Across the top paddocks he could make out figures moving around and hear the faint shouts and whistles of commands to Harold.Sheep milled around, and the tractor chugged into sight, pulling a flat bed trailer.
