Around my house, it’s easy to tell when we’ve had a wicked cold snap. You know, besides the fact it’s wicked cold, all the New England folk are cranky, and everybody has a look promising the next idiot to say “cold enough for ya?” gets punched in the mouth.

When it’s cold, I get a horrible patch of very dry and itchy skin right smack-dab between my shoulderblades. It’s constant and, naturally, in a spot I can’t reach no matter how much of a contortionist I try to be. (And let’s face it, that’s not very much.) So, come winter, this is my best friend:

I don’t always have my trust wooden fork with me, however, which means I’m always pausing in doorways to scratch against doorjambs, or using my truck door or a tree or whatever’s handy. And then I feel like Baloo…

This morning, my BFF wooden fork was in the kitchen and I was too lazy to get up, so (as I reported on Twitter) this happened…

Just scratched my back really hard with the wrong end of my pen, so I might have a new prison tat between my shoulderblades.

— Shannon Stacey (@shannonstacey) January 29, 2013

Remind me of this day when August comes and I’m wallowing around on my blog, whining about humidity.