So it’s single digits again outside. On days like today, I feel guilty and relieved that I live in the modern era – after things like insulation and furnaces were invented. I secretly fear the stories I’ve read or heard about – of polar expeditions, of mountain climbing adventures gone awry, of prisoners in Siberia – and what it would feel like to be out in the elements without shelter on a day like this. How long would I last? Would I go insane?
In truth, I’ve never been good at being cold. Whether ice skating, skiing or even just swimming in a lake – my body has never held up well to cold environments. I’ve thought of myself as having poor circulation, although I don’t really know what that means medically. Are my blood vessels too thin or too few? Is my blood pressure too low?
Regardless of how much one likes the winter season, this kind of cold can be wearing. Lyric and I bundle up and stand at the bus stop waiting for that big yellow caterpillar that is always late – sometimes I have to take Maggie out too. (she loves it!) Lyric informed me that Punxatawny Phil, or whatever that pudgy rodent is called, saw his shadow again this year – she even made a cutout puppet of the rascal.
Yes, those of us who live without a garage are tired of scraping snow off our windshields. In town we are tired of trying to park on piles of ice and slush. My dedication to layer up and go out and exercise despite treacherous footing is wearing thin. Dylan is tired of trying to drink water that has turned to ice. I’m tired of paying for heating oil that my dinosaur furnace sucks like nectar to heat this tired, old house.
While my daughter was watching the antics of Curious George, I overheard the narrator refer to the winter doldrums George was experiencing as a “roller-coaster of blah.” I chuckled as this reference struck home. What better way to express these post-January cloud-weary blues?
Maybe if I envision this mid-west version of winter (with its endless freeze & thaw, rain and ice, cloud and gray) as a roller-coaster ride, it will be more fun. At least I know that every ride has an ending – the car pulls to a stop and we get off, albeit dizzy and with our heads spinning.
I’m looking forward to running in 70 degrees again, with sweat dripping down my back. I’m achin’ for spring, Phil, but I might be able to hold out for 6 more weeks.
In truth, I’ve never been good at being cold. Whether ice skating, skiing or even just swimming in a lake – my body has never held up well to cold environments. I’ve thought of myself as having poor circulation, although I don’t really know what that means medically. Are my blood vessels too thin or too few? Is my blood pressure too low?
Regardless of how much one likes the winter season, this kind of cold can be wearing. Lyric and I bundle up and stand at the bus stop waiting for that big yellow caterpillar that is always late – sometimes I have to take Maggie out too. (she loves it!) Lyric informed me that Punxatawny Phil, or whatever that pudgy rodent is called, saw his shadow again this year – she even made a cutout puppet of the rascal.
Yes, those of us who live without a garage are tired of scraping snow off our windshields. In town we are tired of trying to park on piles of ice and slush. My dedication to layer up and go out and exercise despite treacherous footing is wearing thin. Dylan is tired of trying to drink water that has turned to ice. I’m tired of paying for heating oil that my dinosaur furnace sucks like nectar to heat this tired, old house.
While my daughter was watching the antics of Curious George, I overheard the narrator refer to the winter doldrums George was experiencing as a “roller-coaster of blah.” I chuckled as this reference struck home. What better way to express these post-January cloud-weary blues?
Maybe if I envision this mid-west version of winter (with its endless freeze & thaw, rain and ice, cloud and gray) as a roller-coaster ride, it will be more fun. At least I know that every ride has an ending – the car pulls to a stop and we get off, albeit dizzy and with our heads spinning.
I’m looking forward to running in 70 degrees again, with sweat dripping down my back. I’m achin’ for spring, Phil, but I might be able to hold out for 6 more weeks.
1 comment:
Beautiful triplet leaves. How did you ever handle it up North? ...or are those repressed memories? I find it ironic that I am here in Bangladesh longing for snow that I will never see. The cleanness. The sharp feeling of an intake of cold air into your nose that is almost painful but makes you so aware of the physicality of life and breath. Ohio winters in my opinion do leave a little bit to be desired. Not nearly cold enough. Ha! and the freeze, thaw, muddy snow, slush, etc. is truly a roller coaster of blah.
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