GIRD YOUR LOINS!!
January 25, 2007 by mrschili
It’s going to get COLD!
The weather prognosticators are saying that it’s going to get seriously chilly in our neck of the woods. I called Organic Mama the other morning to ask her to tell her countrymen to keep their effing frigid air to themselves, thank you very much, because it seems our neighbors to the north are going to be sharing their frosty climate with us for the next few days.
Gee, folks. Thanks. SO much… Really.
This is what I hate about New England winters. It’s not the snow, really. I can handle snow (particularly now that my beloved takes on the job of shoveling for himself. It’s kind of an unspoken trade-off for my scooping the cat box year round). I mean, yes - I despise the feel of snow seeping into my boots, and I roll my eyes whenever someone refuses to clear his or her car off, and I worry when I or anyone I love actually has to go OUT in the snow, but it’s not the snow that puts the burr in my bonnet about winter.
No. The thing that gets me cranky and really wishing I could migrate south is the cold. The stupid, mind-numbing, “I can’t feel my fingertips” cold. The eye-stinging, “my-car-won’t-start,” “my garage door is frozen to the ground” cold. The “don’t let your children wait out for the bus or they’ll get frostbite” cold. The booger-freezing, teeth-chattering, “are you KIDDING ME?!” cold.
It’s just wrong, and it’s headed our way.
**P.S.**
It’s Friday morning, 7 a.m, and three degrees outside my door. I may just crawl right back under the covers…
So, my griping about it being cold, and our average temperature has been about 47 degrees for the past week, would make you roll your eyes at me?
Eh, not so much. I bitch whenever it’s less than about fifty or so, so you’re right on my edge, but I’ll cut you some slack.
I’d like to exist in the temperate band between about sixty and eighty - and I don’t mind venturing into the nineties every once in a while, either. When it gets much below thirty, though? And for extended periods? Count me out.
It all makes me wish I could hibernate. “Just wake me when it’s sixty degrees again..:
What was that you said a few blogs ago? QUITYERBITCHIN’
Come on! You are of the hardy New England stock, spoiled ridiculously by a early winter that can best be described by MY Canadian hardiness as a travesty. There you were, frolicking in the early May temps of January and I was whinging about it being wrong, wrong, wrong. This nasty eyeball-freezing, nose-hair frying cold stuff is actually perfectly normal and good. And comforting.
Well, at least to me. Time to get the eye-hole hat out, eh?
Amen, sister.
As I walk around the city tomorrow bundled to the eyeballs, leaning into the wind, being led by 2 foolishly jaunty dogs please send me warm thoughts.
Oy.
Freakin’ hate this, even if it is the price of having seasons.
Ok, I must add a caveat - I like cold and getting into my warm woolies.
I DON’T like cold so fierce it turns the human into a gasping, violently
trembling icicle. I just took my dogs into the howling wind with 1 degree F, and it’s horrible. So, apologies.
Apologies accepted. I may mumble and grumble about the chilly weather, but I save my serious bitching for STUPID cold. This, my friends, is STUPID cold, and anyone who can honestly say that they enjoy it has been out in it too long and needs immediate medical attention……
Hey, butch up!
I don’t envy you. The last time I lived where it was cold, it was COLD! I spent a winter in Montana, one week the high temp was minus 25. Not Wind Chill, Chili!
Oh, and per your comment on my lizard, I’ll pay close attention to your blog while I’m gone.
Hey, if you want, you can look at my Flickr pics at twoblueday, and if you have an account, I’ll make you “family” and you can see pictures of my granddaughter.