Dear Children:
First the excuse; then we’ll discuss whether its any good.
It’s been powerful cold lately. The plains are sitting in an infuriating Artic Dome that puzzles and woes. It has sluiced away all my energy and left me panting and adrift: a ruthless chill of the sort I have never experienced. Yesterday it was minus 17F. Accounting for the wind, it was minus 40F.
It wasn’t so cold I couldn’t walk a block and a half to the Hamburger Inn (since 1931) home of the Egg Burger (since 1936) to order the Thunder Burger (grilled onions, jalapenos and ‘shrooms) topped with provolone. It was cold enough to muse that the Thunder Burger may be named for The Thunder Sisters famous in these precincts for correcting male companions with a rolling pin. It wasn’t so cold I couldn’t walk slightly farther to Skellys (since 1998) for fish and chips. Both dishes come with crispy seasoned fries and considerable comfort. It wasn’t so cold I couldn’t meet buddies for coffee and deliver stuff to the church for an upcoming rummage sale. It was, however, sufficiently harsh to thwart a three-block trudge to the gym.
That was yesterday. Today it has warmed to a balmy plus13F and still the only thing that gets me out of the house is food.
Do you see what I’m faced with over here? The question isn’t rhetorical; you can tell by the punctuation. Can you guess?
Me neither.
Taken in the context of history, we may not be experiencing anything unusual. Winter is known for its cold. I’m known for squirrelly tangents and poorly lit emotional hallways. The two should slot-A-tab-B nicely. This feels ominous, though.
Nevertheless, I’m open to the possibilities of tomorrow and a new day just behind the curtain of night.
Much Love,
Poppy
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2 comments:
Apparently, Poppy doesn't recall the winter of '80 in Chicago when, during one particular cold snap, the ambient temperature dropped to -15 (in the shade or not)and the windchill hit bottom at -40. One could triple one's calory burn rate merely by standing on the corner waiting for the 151 bus. Everyone from the Middle knows that working up a shiver rather than a sweat makes the pounds melt away faster.
Where have you been, Poppy, this past week? We unwashed tens miss luxuriating in your ruminations.
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