Whatever Wednesday: On Surviving a Coldathon


Day One: The wind whips around the trees outside. Toss on a sweater before taking the dogs out for their morning potty break. No hat. No gloves. Enjoy the zip of the cold against my nose. Breathe deeply, filling my lungs with cool air, remember 107 degree days not too long ago. Ever so grateful for the string of 40 degree days we have been experiencing.

Night One: Wind seems to have picked up some. A few aluminum cans from the recycling bin get tossed into the yard. I pick them up and put them back. Fingers tingly and cold after taking dogs out. Still wearing just a sweater over a t-shirt and jersey knit pants. Slippers on my feet. The brisk cold is oh so invigorating. Can’t wait to get back inside to a hot cup of tea to warm up my hands. I begin to wonder if snow will soon follow. Christmas isn’t far away and a White Christmas would just rock.

Day Two: Fail to look at thermometer because the dogs are insistently yipping at the door. Grab a sweater to toss on over my PJ’s. Go outside.

Half the cans from the recycling bin have been tossed into the yard by the cruel wind. And…..

Oh.DEAR.GOD. Ears nearly freeze off. Toes? Gone. I’ve no idea how – I had slippers on. Nose in danger of turning black. No chap-stick so my lips froze together (for this, the husband is happy.) Look at thermometer. 28 degrees. Real feel? 16. With a stiff wind. Inside the house is brrrr. Hands and feet fail to warm up for bulk of day.

Night Two: Dogs yip at door again. Grab huge oversized windbreaker with thermal insert. Zip all the way up, put on hood, OVER sweater turtleneck and scarf. Still no gloves. Nearly lose my fingers to frostbite. Trip over even more cans tossed into the yard by wind, almost breaking leg in process. Nearly bite off lower lip as teeth chatter constantly the whole time I am outside. Still no snow to show for all this brrrrrrness.

Day Three: Sunny, not breezy much, blue sky. Looks warm. Grab sweater. Step outsi.. holy mother of … scramble back inside for huge jacket, socks, and actual shoes. Slippers just won’t keep what used to be my toes warm enough. Glance at thermometer. 23!!!!! Shouldn’t it be snowing? Why is it not snowing? Why does it look warm outside? Damn you Mother Nature!!!!

Pick up 374 cans to return to the recycle bin as I hang with the dogs as they do their thing, taking their time of course because THEY have built-in fur coats.

Return indoors, even the dogs are shivering. Put their sweaters and jackets on them. They don’t protest and keep them on all day as they search out blankets under which to snuggle.

Shudder and shiver all day long, even under a fuzzy blanket whilst drinking Peppermint mocha.

So.NOT.RIGHT.

Night Three: Finish putting kids to bed after an insane afternoon. Dogs decide they need to go outside right after I curl up on the couch with my fuzzy blanket. Grab big jacket. Dart outside. Come back inside. Clean up kids toys. Dog #2 decides peeing isn’t the only thing she needs to get done. Grab big jacket. Put it back on. Do jumping jacks as the dog poops in the front yard. Dart back inside. Sit down on couch, curl up with fuzzy blanket and attempt to thaw while watching a fireplace. On TV cuz we’re fancy like that here. I ignore the icicles hanging from my eyelashes and nose.

Shoveling snow would at the very least provide an outlet for my frustration.

Mother Nature is a cruel mistress – instead she’s given me cold. But STILL no snow on which to exert my frustrations.

*Please note that I live in Georgia. Where it was 100 degrees or higher most days this past summer and up until recently has been 60 – 70 degrees outside. Yes, I’m spoiled. If I survive the winter without turning into a huge popsicle, it will be a miracle, one for the Guiness Book. I’m sure of it.

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