I still am sniffling and sneezing, although meds work so well to suppress all symptoms that -- aside from spaciness -- I can almost forget at times that I have a cold.
But I cannot forget that it is cold. It is refreshing to come to Minnesota for a week every winter and be reminded about true frigidity. The worst of it is its unending-ness. Even though the temps go up 10°F or so from dawn to mid-afternoon, it is so deeply cold that the "warmth" isn't noticeable. It's just more of the same.
Or maybe it's the layers that are the worst. Today I've been wearing a silk camisole, a cashmere turtleneck and two wool cardigans, with a down vest over that, and a down parka over all the above much of the time. This is what cream must feel when it's whipped -- huge, fluffy, and full of fat.
Or maybe it's the ice, that is the worst. The Cities were socked by a blizzard on Christmas, but then it warmed to above freezing and everything melted to slush. And then it got deeply cold, and snowed some more on the way down, and so now every outside surface is rutted with the worst kind of ice, slippery and thick. The roads are like driving on irregularly corrugated cardboard.
Or maybe it's the dryness, that is the worst. I feel the moisture flowing out of my body. My skin is drawn and tight. My eyes are sandy (although some of that is due to virus). My fingertips are rough and flaking, and my lips are chapped red.
The photo above was taken by FrenchKate in answer to my post of yesterday. Captured from a webcam, it is a view of downtown Saint Paul.
3 comments:
46* and raining in boise. Hills are filled with snow, but here on the flats, rain and grey-browns. I miss the cold sun, but willingly trade it for the comparatively warm 46*
... not true. Given my druthers, I'd take a hard sun and bitter cold over these unending grayness.
On a different topic. Last night Molly was compelled to take a bath. Uneventful, except for her loudly singing from the bathroom much of the Spice Girls "Wannabe" ...which Amy (you) introduced via your wii "Just Dance" game.
Molly just luuvvess this song.
Here are the lyrics to the last stanza (...for your reading pleasure.)
"If you wanna be my lover, you gotta, you gotta, you
gotta,
you gotta, you gotta, slam, slam, slam, slam
Slam your body down and wind it all around.
Slam your body down and wind it all around.
Slam your body down and wind it all around.
Slam your body down zigazig ah
If you wanna be my lover."
Sigh. And it appears Will knows all the lyrics as well. Double-sigh. So much for the influence of all those 'baby-mozart' cd's.
Two things.
1) the view from the Saint Paul webcam was my modern take on the Brueghel posted by Vivi. Do you see the resemblance?
2) One year for Halloween, my neighbors and I were the "Spice Moms" and we sang our own version of this song:
"If I'm gonna be your mother...things are going to change." The only line I clearly remember is:
"I wanna, I wanna, I wanna
dishes done!"
So much more wholesome!
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