What is a cause you’re passionate about and why?
I didn’t write the post for Bloganuary Day 16 because I felt passionate that day about absolutely nothing except not writing the post. It happens.
Tomorrow I shall be passionate about the weather.
It was 77(F) degrees today. Tomorrow morning, it will be 33(F) degrees. Or 27(F), depending on which website you’re looking at. There will be light precipitation, possibly sleet, or not. Streets might be icy or might not. The high will be 39(F) or 40(F) or something like that.
My husband and I have appointments for our second Covid booster at 10:00 a.m. I’m hoping for non-icy streets, because I’d really like to get that booster.
Yesterday and today I went outside wearing shorts and a tee-shirt. Tonight I went through my closet looking for the warmest clothes I have. I planned to wear a sleeveless cotton shell under a long-sleeved shirt, something from which I could easily produce a bare arm–this is a drive-through booster.
The closet wasn’t promising. When I downsized before the last move, a lot of clothes went to the Salvation Army. I bought several pairs of wool slacks when we drove to New York City the Christmas of 2000, but got rid of them after a few warm winters. The heaviest slacks I have aren’t really heavy and may be too long–as in, I’m going to take these somewhere and have them hemmed up--but that was before Covid hit and I retreated into my cave.
At this point I don’t care how long the slacks are. I’ll roll the cuffs if necessary. I may wear my sweats over them.
I have sweaters–I love sweaters–plus a heavy, baggy chenille thing I wear over light sweaters. And I have my old Denali sweatshirt. But how many layers can a needle get through before it reaches skin? And how many layers can I divest myself of while waiting in line?
Some (many) people who are used to below-zero cold laugh at Texans’ inability to deal with above-zero (what we consider cold) weather, ice, and snow.
It isn’t the cold per se that we get wound up about. It’s the rapid drop in temperature.
And the icy streets and bridges. We’re not equipped with sand and salt to keep cars from sliding into objects they shouldn’t slide into. Nor do we know how to drive in those conditions. There’s an art to it.
I don’t possess the art. The one time I tried it, I slid off the highway and ended up in a ditch facing the wrong direction. Across from my father’s place of work. So embarrassing. He was stationed in Pennsylvania for a while during World War II and then drove across Northern Europe. He knew what to do. He drove the car out of the ditch and took me to the university, which is what he’d wanted to do in the first place. (“Don’t worry. I can drive myself.”)
Fortunately, my husband comes from cold country and has experience in getting around. I put my nose in a book and try not to think about it.
Well, whatever. This isn’t new. Sometimes, as my mother said, there’s nothing between us and the North Pole but a barbed wire fence.
And it’s common knowledge that if you don’t like Texas weather, just wait a while.
P.S. If this turns out to be like last February’s storm, when my neighborhood was selected for a power outage that lasted six days, and my husband went to Lowe’s every morning to buy ten 2x4s to burn in a fireplace designed to look charming rather than to emit heat, I shall not say Whatever. I shall pack my bags and move to El Paso, where a connection to the New Mexico power grid keeps the lights on. Or so I’ve heard. There’s only so much John Wayne-Rugged Individualism that this native Texan can take.
Image by Claudia Trapp from Pixabay
6 thoughts on “Not #Bloganuary Day 16, But Answering the Question, Sort Of”
I’ll cross my fingers for your weather. We might get some, too, but I don’t expect much.
Thank you. As I say in my next post, nothing happened.
Thank you again. Stay warm!
Sent from my iPhone
We did. I was sure we wouldn’t, but we did.
Enjoyed this one – and understand your feelings re weather totally! Have been hoping to peck out a short message to each family but I suddenly have gotten to the very old and decrepid-hunt-and peck method. The day I turned 95 last year I began to lose more of my independence.- boo-hiss! The latest was a hard fall coming out of bathroom, and one boob now a lovely blue/black all over the lower part under it!! Thank goodness for the call button and that I did have it on! This is only the 2nd time I felt a need to call in the 10 years or more I’ve worn it! This is the first time Steve was the only family home and in charge! I told caller he lived across street and could help them get in. He came right over – they got me up. This the first time Mary, Jim and Dan were out of pocket for any length of time. Anyhow, Mary made doctor appt.for time she was home. I’m still recovering from that. Now, if you would please fwd. this to Mary, Julie, Denise, Gene AND Chip I’d appreciate it – and please send their info when you have a chance, Have info down but where for ph. nos. I think of each one of you – and my dear sisters and families. AND thanks for keeping in touch. “Hi” to David, Love ya’, Barbara
Barbara, I just saw your comment–not paying attention to the blog again–and am so sorry you fell and so glad you were able to summon aid. And that you’re recovering well. I will forward to all you asked me to and will gather as much of their contact info as I can. I sit down here pretending I know how to get in touch with family when David is the one who keeps that info and tells me when I ask. I have a lovely address book but not much interest in filling it out. Anyway, it’s great to hear from you. I really am going to write to you–if you don’t mind being bored. My most interesting topic now is physical therapy; my infant therapist didn’t know who John Wayne was. I had no idea anyone could be so young. I didn’t know I’m so old.
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