Good god, it is cold. I mean, I live in Buffalo, so I am adept at navigating the winter months, but perhaps as I get older, I get colder. I look at M, who came home from school yesterday in 18-degree weather wearing only a sweatshirt. “Aren’t you freezing?!” I yell. He shrugs. “It’s a little chilly.” Understatement!
And the snow. Every morning, more snow to brush off the car. Not a lot the last few days, but enough to make me groan when I open the front door and step onto the porch. And have they plowed? No, they have not. My street hasn’t seen a plow except one time after the snowstorm a week or so ago. Still, it snows, layering the streets.
Then my office, which is an icebox right now. It is situated by the front porch which is lovely in summer and terrible in winter. I might as well be outside. The vent at my feet brings no relief. My hoodie and blanket and coffee do not do enough. Were my office not in here, I would shut this room off all winter. Alas, here I sit, with frozen fingers.
So, forgive me for today’s short post, because I am cold. May you have a day full of dry boots and fuzzy blankets and hot beverages. That’s what I’m aiming for.