Happy New Year! Let's talk about the weather!
Why? Because I had to pop over to Walgreens just now and when I walked outside I got frostbite on my ears. A woolly mammoth escorted me to my car. I passed a group of Norwegian cross-country skiers with snot icicles dangling from their noses. And then the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse trotted by as a sure sign that the end of the world is nigh.
Because it's 3 in the afternoon and only 50 degrees outside.
Somebody pass me a parka. I am living in the tundra!
I know, I know, I KNOW. There's a whole contingency out there to whom 50 degrees right now would mean shorts and flip-flops. And to you I say, the cold weather has addled your brains. Your judgement cannot be trusted.
The other night I was out with my sisters and Val and Annie (Knechts! Appels! Party!) and we were standing around in the parking lot of Miguel's, blissfully stuffed on chips and salsa, talking about the weather. Don't think that I'm the only 80 year old out there, folks. The question came up: would you rather live in a cold place or a hot place. And suddenly it was like Sophie's Choice. My mind couldn't fathom either. Because I was once standing in another parking lot, this one in Phoenix, and across the street was a bank thermometer that read 117 and I could feel the bones in my legs catching on fire. But on the flip side, I just made a joke about the tundra.
So I opted out of the question because both seem like an impossibility. I am weak. But happier for it.
What would you choose? Phoenix or Duluth?