A winter storm is sweeping across much of the eastern United States today. Temperatures are dropping, snow is falling, ice is piling up. To say the least, it’s cold out there.
Cold is not my environment. I grew up in New Orleans, Louisiana and Houston, Texas. Both are known for being hot and humid. I can deal with heat. I can even deal with humidity. I’m used to those environments. I can function in them. In the early Summer, when people are walking around saying “boy, it’s hot outside” I usually respond “this ain’t hot. I’ll tell you when it get hot.” (Late Summer will definitely be hotter.)
Of course, I have low tolerance for cold. Generally, I think any temperature from sixty (60) to sixty-nine (69) deg. F (fifteen (15) to twenty (20) deg. C)) is “chilly” and I put on a light jacket. Anything below sixty I consider cold. Anything below fifty (50) deg. F (ten (10) deg. C) is colder than I want to be out in and I’d rather stay inside. And by staying inside I mean in bed, with several quilts or down comforters, hibernating.
So, when I got up this morning, the dogs were all riled up and ready to go on their constitutionals. I checked the weather app. It said that it was thirty (30) deg. F outside. (minus one (-1) deg. C). < heavy sigh >
I got on my long sleeved shirt, heavy jacket, wool cap and scarf, gloves and other accoutrements and prepared to brave the cold. I took Major Tom out first, leashed him up, and walked him. He didn’t spend too much time meandering or sniffing around, and we were done fairly quickly. Then I walked Sirocco and Magdalena. Sirocco and Magdalena are so busy charging along that I’m not outside terribly long.
I was fortunate in that we didn’t have snow, ice, slush, or wind along with the cold. Any of those would have seriously made me reconsider taking the dogs out. If it were just wind, I could probably tolerate it enough to walk. But if there is snow, ice, or slush, I don’t think so. Cold and wet is my least favorite combination of weather. Also, I’m fairly certain if there were snow or ice on the ground, Magdalena would just drag me along in the cold wet stuff without me being able to get any traction to stop her. Maybe I should start trying to figure out how to train her as a sled dog so she’d understand “left”, “right” and “stop”.
Anyway, the dogs enjoyed their morning walks, and after some roughhousing when we got back, settled down for some naps. I survived. I managed to get some warmth into my frozen extremities again. Life goes on.
I’m sure tomorrow will go better.
Wait, the weather report is on the news. It’s going to be 31 deg. F tomorrow morning?
Dang it!
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