Toss-turn-toss-turn…that’s the baby…flip over…no, she’s really awake…Good morning, Lord…gather the courage to turn back the covers…turn over…bones creeeeeeaaaaaak…slip feet out of bed and down on the HOLY CRAP THIS FLOOR IS FREEZING COLD WHOSE IDEA WAS IT TO BUY AN OLD HOME, ANYWAY?
You think I’m being dramatic, but I’m not. Brrrrrr!
We bought an old home for its character. It has character, all right. Too much character.
I’m trying to learn to appreciate it. You saw our Christmas Eve walk through a winter wonderland—picture evidence that I do find the white snow falling in its fluffy glory a refreshing sight. I grew up in western Oregon where snow was a magical anomaly. But at some point, here in the extra-extra-Lake Effect belt around Lake Michigan, the magic of snow dissipates as winter drags on.
And we’re only in January.
He’s officially Brother-in-Law of the Century. Sorry, other brother-in-laws.
Allow me a super-pious and potentially flat-falling, lame reflection: My being cold is a chance to unite myself with those who are even colder than me. Dude, there are people outside in this stuff!
And (PANIC!) as the Weather Channel (PANIC!) likes to remind (PANIC!) us (PANIC!), it’s a life-threatening cold. (Actually, we should be a bit panicked. This kind of cold is serious stuff. But the Weather Channel likes to freak people out, don’t you think?)
All that to say, shut your yapper and quit complaining, Rhonda.