Observations on a Frosty Morning

Before I get going at a new post here, I must say a big thank you for all of the comments to the previous few posts, especially the last one. You’re all lovely, and I appreciate your thoughts very much! I’m putting the priority on posting today, as I don’t know how long the energy will hold out, but I’ll go back through the comments another time and give them some much deserved attention.

Secondly, thanks for the compliments on my new layout. I was sick of having to rely on Stephanie to design nice ones for me, so asked her to teach me some basics about HTML last week. She also modified a fairly simple layout for me, and set it up so that I could change things on it quite easily. It will never be as nice as her designed from scratch layouts, but I’m really happy with it. Versatility is all that I wanted, and I definitely have that. Oh, and obviously the current theme is for Valentine’s Day. Kind of a no brainer, huh?! πŸ˜€

I just made a quick round of a few blogs and journals and have to admit to chuckling ever so slightly at some of the “oh my gosh it’s so cold here” posts. I’m not a horrible, nasty person, and I certainly realize that cold is a very relative thing, depending on where one lives in the world. But I think that I’m entitled to roll my eyes ever so slightly at some of you this morning. πŸ™‚ It’s -40 degrees here right now, and I haven’t bothered to check what the “real feel” with the wind might be. Not that it matters, really. The skin quits registering degrees of cold at a certain point, and -40 is likely just about that point! You’ll note that I didn’t stick a C. behind the temp. as that doesn’t matter at this point, either. -40 is -40, no matter what weather language you speak.

Will it impress you to know that I hauled myself out from under the warm blankets to send my pampered husband off to work in relative comfort today? It impressed him, and I suppose that his opinion is the one that really matters. πŸ™‚ I hate, hate, hate getting into a cold car, and I’m sure that everyone with any sense feels the same way. So, since I was awake anyway, I got myself bundled up and went out to warm up the car, shortly before he was due to leave for work. He was upstairs doing whatever it is he does shortly before leaving for work, so didn’t know what I was up to until he walked out the door. Surprise! He’s doing the grocery run after work and had already told me to leave the vacuuming and such for him to do tomorrow on his day off, so a few minutes of shivering is a very small thing to do in return.

Walking to and from the car reminded me of walking Stephanie to school on mornings like this, and of something that bothered me about such mornings, even more than the cold. We live quite near a main thoroughfare, and car exhaust hangs in the air in a big way on mornings like this. Blech. I had a scarf over my face to protect my delicate skin from the cold, and it’s astonishing how the scarf reeked of exhaust, just from the short time I breathed through it this morning. I don’t know if those born and raised in the city notice it as much, but I’m a country girl and, even after sixteen years of living here in the big smoke, I’ve not adjusted to the reek of a city. Our air quality is probably as good as you’ll find in any major city anywhere in the world, but it’s pretty poor compared to the fresh air that filled my lungs in my youth. The farm where I grew up is ten miles from the nearest town, so the only airborne nasties were dust and pollens from the fields in summer. Not nearly as obnoxious as city pollutants, believe me. Ah, those were the days, my friends! On a morning like this, all that I’d smell would be frosty, clear air … unless of course the wind was blowing from the east, past the barn and barnyard. But even that was preferable to exhaust fumes. Well, maybe. Funny how I never noticed the pong when I lived on the farm, but the nose wrinkled slightly more with each year I lived away. πŸ™‚ But just keep that to yourselves, as I’d never live it down if any of my birth family found out that I really have become “citified”. And yes, that was citified, not certified. There’s always one wag in the crowd, and I like to head them off in advance, if possible. πŸ˜‰

Okay, I’m off now to have some breakfast and then do, um, something. What, I don’t know yet, but it will be something. Oh yes, definitely something, for sure. Doing nothing is never an option. Even if it’s only breathing and staring at the ceiling, it’s still something. But I never do only that, as I always have something better to do. And have I mentioned that I’m very good at rambling?!



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