Woke up this morning to a temperature of -1 and a wind chill index of -19. The temperature is still falling and the wind is still blowing.
It seems that when the temperatures drop, the craving for comfort food increases. In my house that means biscuits and sausage gravy for breakfast and a big pot of homemade chicken vegetable soup for supper. With cornbread and lots of butter.
I live in an apartment. I don't have outside chores to contend with. At this stage of my life, I consider that a blessing. The local weather forecasters are making noises about wind chill temperatures of -35 degrees. Funny, when I was young there were farm animals to be fed and snow to shovel and all sorts of things that needed my attention no matter how cold or snowy it was. That didn't bother me much. Just added another layer of clothes and went out and did what needed doing.
But these days now that I have a considerable amount of age on me, I am content to stay indoors until it warms up. No problem. I have a rocking chair. I have a heavy, warm crocheted afghan. I have my books. All I need is a fresh pot of coffee and I'm good. Let the younger ones go romp in the cold and snow. Me...now where did I put that murder mystery I've been wanting to read.
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