February in the UK's even more flipping freezing than usual, and us soft southern types can't cope with artic garage antics. Especially when the kids have nicked the heater for their bedrooms - our electric meter's spinning like an old Guzzi's bacon slicer.
So TB member and arty type - no, let's not mention his name - needs to get his MV125 ready for the Bristol Classic show this weekend, and finds himself on the horns of a dilemma; frostbite in the garage or a frosty reception on the MV club stand when he tells them his bikes not finished.
But there's always another way, especially when his wife's taken the kids away for half term. Move the bike into the house - TV, beer and bike all within easy reach, and nice and toasty. Just watch those oily fingermarks. And be ready for that quickening heartbeat when you hear those three little words;
"Darling, I'm home!"