We are generally good kids about going out the door, even when the weather is nasty. But this is ridiculous. The temperature has been zero or below for days, the wind is howling and I am spending most of my weekends in bed. Or under the bed.
Well, not in bed, maybe. Still go out to the gym – where the heater can barely get the temperature up to 50 degrees – but not out the door.
You have heard a lot of happy nonsense from me about “No such thing as a bad day… only bad clothes” and all that. Blah, blah, blah. That was then and this is now. Over the years Hilly and I have accumulated enough warm clothes for an arctic expedition, so we could still go out the door. But we are talking face masks. And frost bite. We are talking about… a BAD DAY! DAMN IT! And I am not going! No! We will resume broadcasts of cock-eyed optimism in the spring.
SHY FOOTNOTE: I wrote this last night. Today the temperature has soared to 20! Am quietly gathering my xc ski stuff. And a mask for the wind. Pathetic.
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