Don’t know about where all y’all are, but the ambient air temperature at 6:53 a.m. this morning was a balmy -36 degrees Fahrenheit. Please forgive me if I do not change that into Celsius…the brain is a bit slow this morning…iced up and all.
So once again, that’s 36 degrees below 0. As in minus 36 degrees. Or –36 degrees. Doesn’t matter really. Anyway you write it, it comes up as slightly unbelievable and just plain cold-sounding. Don’t you think?
And that was ambient temperature. No wind chill added. Dude. That’s just plain cold.
And the poor husband had to go out in it, not to mention the dogs. At least he had boots, right? Not sure how well they’ll hold up at 36 below! I don’t think he wore the ones I bought him a couple of years ago that are rated to 50 below. Maybe I should have suggested that. Then again, better not to make sweet, wifely-type “suggestions” before 7 a.m. Not smart. See, I have learned something. 🙂
Oh yes, the dogs. They lasted all of about 48 seconds before they were limping back to the door. In fact, I had to step outside and beg Buck to walk back from the other side of the yard. Poor thing. I don’t think any business was taken care of which has me wondering when and how that might occur. Ah, the things I ponder.
Did I mention the snow? We actually got about 18 inches (on top of what was already here…maybe a foot?). It’s absolutely gorgeous out there. You should have seen the way the red lights on the fence lit up the stack of snow on top of it. The snow was glowing red. It was so cool. Again, you’ll have to trust me, as that whole camera/nighttime/flash-y thing is not top of my list right now to figure out.
What’s front and center is trying to decide if I want to tackle the ginormous wreath I bought at auction in Saratoga years ago. Well, to be honest, the veterinary clinic bought it, but since that and I are one and the same, my life and all the happenings sort of get mushed together. Gosh, I digress.
Anyhoo. The wreath is really, really cool with deer antlers, sage grouse feathers, sparkly things…and, well, it had blue lights. And it was just beautiful. But for the last two years, some of those pretty, blue lights have decided to take a rest. And finally, last year, at the end of the season, thankfully, the last one took a breath, sighed and blinked out. No more ethereal blueness emanating from the massive evergreen (albeit fake) circle hanging in the window. So I unhooked the extension cord, tried to be all Buddhist and such (you know, as in no attachments, living in the moment, yada, yada, yada) and pretended not to see what was missing. Then I simply packed it away and told myself I’d deal with it next year.
Fast forward (and boy do I mean fast) to now. Now it’s “next year” and the wreath is laying in the bag on the absolutely gorgeous table the husband made for our “school.” It’s just taking up space–the wreath in the bag, not the table. We’d love to be using the table, but that’s a story for another day altogether.
Wow, I digress again. Imagine that.
So, as I was writing. This is now “next year” and I have GOT to address the wreath situation. I planned ahead and when I was in town a couple of weeks ago, I bought a string of blue lights. So I can once again get that bluish, heavenly, happy feeling when I see the wreath all lit up and glowing. Only problem is, I have to string them. Well, not only that, I have to unstring the strand that is already there. Then I have to meticulously wind the new strand in so that the cord can not be seen, just the lights, and the lights are evenly spaced and not too many on one side, too little on the other side, perfectly balanced, and again, no cord showing. And there you have it. I’m Monica. You should see me with the Christmas trees. The one in the Great Room took me 4 hours. It was 3 a.m. when I finished. I wondered if I should just plug it in, sit and marvel at the beauty and wait for dawn. I mean, at that hour, why go to sleep, right? I succumbed though and woke up after 3 hours of sleep, slightly groggy and much grumpy. Serves me right, I know. But you should see the tree!!!
Ahem. So, I’m Monica when it comes to the lights. Which is why I’m putting off the humongous (did I mention it was large) wreath. It’s going to be time-consuming and mind-altering and just generally a major pain in the kister.
Which reminds me of the patient I met last time I was at work. Oh he was a dear. He was this cute little old man (sorry–that is such a stereotype isn’t it–but he really was) who was funny, with a very dry sense of humor, and cantankerous at the same time. So I couldn’t help but laugh every time he was being stubborn with me. And his son and daughter-in-law were sitting there. So I was trying not to be disrespectful to them, because sometimes it’s difficult not to get into the middle of family junk. Actually, it’s always difficult. And being in the hospital with a sick family member seems to bring out the worst in people. But, as usual, I digress. So the son and I started talking and turns out he lives in Breckenridge, a town near and dear to my heart. We reminisced about the good old days when there wasn’t even a stop sign downtown! By that time, I’d gotten his father to agree to work with me and then he mentioned (the son) that he was sorry his father was such a PITA. I started laughing and said “OMG, you know what that means!! I’ve been saying that to people for such a long time, but no one ever knows what that means. How cool is that?” He just sort of looked at me. And then I quickly assured him his father was not a pain in the ass and I thought he was just lovely and we’d have a grand time together.
Wow, that was rambling. I was just giving a weather report and here we are discussing the curmudgeonly, cantankerous, cute patients I take care of. It’s all good.
I’m hoping the husband is not blue with cold at the moment…..not to mention the calves. That can be hard on the heart you know. Thinking of those calves, standing out there in -36 degree weather, with a wind chill, trying to stay warm. I mean, it’s not like they’re the Emperor Penguins down in Antarctica who all huddle together in a circle and when the ones on the inside are warm enough, they move to the outside and everyone moves in a bit. Talk about teamwork, right? Oh, and did you know those are the fathers???? Yep, the daddys are the ones who protect the egg, keep it warm and wait for it to hatch. The moms are out trying to find food to bring back to the chicks once they hatch. Oh, and trying not to get eaten. Just a day in the life of an Emperor Penguin.
Anyway, the calves. Please Great Spirit, Allah, God, the Great Mystery, Zeus, or whomever guards the universe, take care of the calves and the squirrels and our resident Stellar Jays and the chickadees (I saw 2 yesterday!!), and the deer and the elk and the moose and the rabbits and the coyotes (yes, I really said that, but we here think coyotes are just fine, so if you’ve got a problem with that, well, this isn’t your blog and you can go write your own). Please make sure they’re all warm and toasty somewhere, well, if not toasty, at least warm. And please make sure they can find some food.
And while you’re at it, please make sure our daddy is safe and warm today.
(Last line from the guest author of the day.)
(Pictures taken yesterday afternoon after the snow stopped falling and the sun tried desperately to peek out.)