Random Cold and Snowy Thoughts
“Oh, my sweet summer child,” Old Nan said quietly, “what do you know of fear? Fear is for the winter, my little lord, when the snows fall a hundred feet deep and the ice wind comes howling out of the north. Fear is for the long night, when the sun hides its face for years at a time, and little children are born and live and die all in darkness while the direwolves grow gaunt and hungry, and the white walkers move through the woods.” (Game of Thrones, George R.R. Martin)
The storm is just about over in Boston, but here on the Cape, it’s got another eight hours left before the snow stops. And then it’s going to get cold. Really cold. Down to about 1 degree Fahrenheit cold. Back in Winthrop it’s already that, heading down to - 4º F. Sure hope my pipes are all right, but I’m damned sure not driving home to find out.
I brought my heavy winter coat with me, but for some reason I can only find one glove.
It shouldn’t matter - the only reason I need to go out-of-doors today is need to do is to shovel out a bit for my car when the plow guy comes through and then take a little spin around the circle while he plows out my parking space. I can probably do it without losing a hand to frostbite.
Maybe.
The birdies are fascinated by the weather. They’ve always lived on an inner wall, away from drafty windows. They’ve never seen it before. Here they have a clear view out the rear slider to the deck. There’s a big drift right in front of the door, and the snow is swirling around as the wind howls outside.
The craftsman who’s replacing the windows and slider came by last night asking if Saturday would be a good day to start. Um, no. Let’s do next weekend. Next Saturday will be 37 degrees and partly sunny.
It’s time to make a nice hot cuppa and bring it up to the Unindicted Co-Conspirator. She was looking like a nice warm bed would be a perfect place to spend the day. I think I may join her.
Winter is coming...
The storm is just about over in Boston, but here on the Cape, it’s got another eight hours left before the snow stops. And then it’s going to get cold. Really cold. Down to about 1 degree Fahrenheit cold. Back in Winthrop it’s already that, heading down to - 4º F. Sure hope my pipes are all right, but I’m damned sure not driving home to find out.
I brought my heavy winter coat with me, but for some reason I can only find one glove.
It shouldn’t matter - the only reason I need to go out-of-doors today is need to do is to shovel out a bit for my car when the plow guy comes through and then take a little spin around the circle while he plows out my parking space. I can probably do it without losing a hand to frostbite.
Maybe.
The birdies are fascinated by the weather. They’ve always lived on an inner wall, away from drafty windows. They’ve never seen it before. Here they have a clear view out the rear slider to the deck. There’s a big drift right in front of the door, and the snow is swirling around as the wind howls outside.
The craftsman who’s replacing the windows and slider came by last night asking if Saturday would be a good day to start. Um, no. Let’s do next weekend. Next Saturday will be 37 degrees and partly sunny.
It’s time to make a nice hot cuppa and bring it up to the Unindicted Co-Conspirator. She was looking like a nice warm bed would be a perfect place to spend the day. I think I may join her.
Winter is coming...