The patterns of our life this January are easily defined. There's not many projects going on at home due to the on again, off again polar chills we've been getting.
Around here, average highs are usually in the 50's with lows in the 30's. Quite nice for winter really. You can still get out and about and do things in your garden. Work outside in the garage. You know, do stuff.
This year, like you, we've been much colder. When things get this frigid, we all hunker down.
I don't like to take my morning walks when the temperatures are below 20. It seems that my menopausal, wonky thermostat that gives me such delightful hotflashes can also give me bone chilling, teeth rattling chills if I'm exposed too long to the meat locker outside.
So this morning as I'm typing this it's 20 degrees outside and the wind is snapping the porch awning. Intellicast says that it "Feels Like 12 degrees."
All righty then.
I let everyone out for a quick "Go Potty!!!"
The pups walk out onto the back deck, sniffing to do their business but then they RUN back in zooming through the house backs hunched up in a puppy run.
(I must say that I'm so glad I'm not a dog although come to think of it that toilet seat has been a bit cold lately.)
So we're not walking this morning and the dogs look at me mournfully, they're so bored.
Pace, pace pace...
Ginny hums at me.
Scooter is waffling between my legs as I sit at the table typing. Every few minutes he jumps up on my leg begging for attention.
The only dog with any sense is Casey who has snuggled her rather large, bodacious, hairless body into and underneath a warm blanket.
I get up and put a stock pot full of water on the stove to boil. Lips are cracking and noses are crusty these days. Everyone from SM down to Scooter is scratching dry skin so moisture in the air is desperately needed.
While I'm up, I make a big pot of coffee for SM and by now my activities have somehow motivated the dogs into thinking that we're heading out to take a walk.
I don't think so.
"Wanna go outside?" I say as I open the back door. They stand there sniffing the arctic breeze.
"What? Out there? Only unless you go with us." They look up at me as I aircondition the house for a few more seconds. They wag at me tempting me to go outside.
"Fat chance." I say and close the door as a gust of wind reminds me that I'm making the right decision.
Lucky that my dogs like to sleep a lot or they'd be chewing on my ankles in retribution.
Maybe we'll go out later if it warms up.
Stay tuned for more exciting adventures...
As The Pot Boils