I’m downstairs in my spare bedroom as I type this, walking my dog on his treadmill. Truthfully, I’d love to take him outside for a spin, but it’s currently -36 with the windchill in my city, and neither the dog nor I have enough hair to cope with that kind of cold.
Sometimes Sherman’s treadmill routine works all his excess gasses out in addition to his extra energy. Tonight is one of those occasions. Lucky me! I’m worried the frames might melt off my glasses. I’d breathe through my mouth, but I’m afraid of what the air in here will taste like.
I’d like to go for groceries, but I know the fruits and veggies I want to buy could partially freeze before I get them from the store to the car, and I don’t want to invest in brown lettuce. I’m also a big baby about the cold, so the idea of leaving my snug little dollhouse to journey out on the really icy city roads makes me whimper. The ploughs have dealt with the main drags fairly well, but the intersections on the side streets are treacherous at best. It’s actually been great fun watching cars try to stop at the corner I can see through my living room window, where the snow has been polished by passing cars to a high gloss finish.
Just a few days ago, I marveled at the beautiful weather, and the seemingly impossible fact that no snow had yet fallen on my city. Mother nature must have heard me, because this week included two blizzards, several lighter snowfalls, and a painful cold snap. Next year, I promise I’ll keep my big mouth shut.
In the meantime, anyone needing a travel companion to a sunny destination should give me a shout. Please note that I’m broke because I haven’t been paid November rent, so I’ll be accepting tickets on a donation basis only.
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