I'd like to point you back to July, when I...ahem...mentioned that it was hotter than I preferred and opined that the big problem was not the heat, but the extremes, that while the summer was over 100 degrees, the winter could easily be ten below zero. Well, it took seven months instead of five, but here we are. The temperature Monday morning was a crisp nine below (and my heat didn't work, but that's fixed and neither here nor there).
While I'll admit that this is a rather long cold spell (five days and counting with lows below zero!) there's something fortifying about a good old deep freeze. Unlike the cat, who has solved the problem by handily growing even more fur--unfortunately becoming the epicenter of my apartment's appalling static electricity problem in the process--, we humans just have to bundle up and bear it.
And while I could deal without the threat of the car stalling and boy am I sick of my gloves (I've basically never lost anything in my life except winter accessories, of which I have to have lost dozens), I'm proud to be a cold-weather dweller. Stop and meet someone's eyes (you can find them crammed between the hat and scarf) while you're both ice-picking off your windshields and I think you'll find some camaraderie there. Because you can handle it.
*I started this post in earnest, but now as I read it, it sounds sarcastic. Take what you will, I guess.
1 comment:
I'm always looking for sarcasm, but I didn't hear any there. We are tough, and that is awesome.
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