In North Texas, when they forecast sub-freezing temperatures, everyone acts like a squirrel storing up nuts for the winter. We rush to grocery stores and stock up on things we probably don't need, we make sure outdoor pipes are wrapped, we leave kitchen sink cupboards open and faucets dripping. I went out today and bought supplies so I could do some serious cooking for the freezer tomorrow--will make an ice cream pie which seems a bit ironic in this cold weather and a new bread someone gave me the recipe for. It's supposed to stay below freezing for three days, and I may not stick my nose out the door the whole time. Rain turning to freezing rain and sleet tonight and then maybe snow. I'm not driving anywhere, let along walking down the driveway to my car.
Today it was in the 50s but the anticipation of the arctic blast made me feel both a bit apprehensive and chilled all day. I was surprised when I went out to check the garage apt (and leave the faucet dripping) that it wasn't really cold out. I cleaned the dog's yard, figuring I wouldn't do it again for a couple of days, and fed the birds--well, mostly the blasted squirrels, but the birds really need sustenance in the cold. Jeannie tells me they have to eat enough all day to give them the energy to shiver all night because that's how they stay warm and alive. Sounds like a miserable existence.
It's a bit ironic that we're having this weather with the SuperBowl madness in town. Someone suggested Fort Worth was hosting the Steelers and Packers with the kind of weather they're used to. I get the feeling the ESPN folks who set up in Sundance Square expected balmier weather, but apparently they have electric blankets, heaters, etc. The city has gone wild with this--another reason to stay home. Today, TV programming was interrupted so we could all see four buses carrying the Steelers from the airport to Fort Worth's Omni Hotel--every darn inch of the way. Made for riveting TV--not! I thought it was sort of funny that the local news said the eyes of the world are focused on the Metroplex for this game, when the national news was broadcast from Cairo. Obviously a difference in focus.
A joke on me: I have repeatedly said I'd never go to SuperBowl with 95,000 wild people. But guess what? I was at the stock show Saturday with 150,000 other people. No wonder it seemed crowded.
I have plenty of work on my desk, so the next few days will find me housebound, working and cooking and napping and reading. Doesn't sound too bad. Reports on cabin fever will follow--I may call all my friends just to hear a human voice.
Showing posts with label arctic cold. Show all posts
Showing posts with label arctic cold. Show all posts
Monday, January 31, 2011
Thursday, January 07, 2010
A hard freeze and feral cats
North Texas takes cold weather seriously. The news this morning was a three-hour special on the "arctic blast" that brought our temperatures into the low 20s and is supposed to get us down to 13 tonight. The news does give us good traffic warnings, etc, but it makes such a big deal of the temperature that it becomes worse, in your mind, than it really is. I feel as I did in Breckenridge--trapped by this monster outside. Actually, like Colorado, this has been a fairly dry cold spell.. It feels cold but not as bone-chilling as some of our wet weather in the 30s. I stayed in today, doing odds and ends, but plan to go to the office for a bit and the grocery tomorrow. My big worry is leaving my dog out--he doesn't do well in the house alone (a mild understatement), although tonight I left him in his bed for two-and-a-half hours, and he was anxious to go out when I got home but fine. This morning when I kept him in he was antsy, not used to being cofined during the day and had energy to run off. I let him out about eleven and when I went to look for him after lunch, he was snoozing in the warm sun. Now he's at my feet, quiet and glad to be in.
Tonight Betty, Jeannie, and I had our belated Christmas dinner at Betty's house. She fixed a feast--appetizers of bacon-wrapped marinated artichokes, a wonderful salad with craizins and a blue cheese dressing, pork tenderloin on polenta, asparagus, and a chocolate trifle with blueberries for dessert. We ate in front of the fire and had a good visit--as Jeannie says, with just the three of us we're free to gossip and talk about anything we want, and we did.
Last April, Betty and her husband, Don, had to put down their aged cat, Maggie, whom both adored. Just when Betty was sunk in despair over that, a mama cat and her kittens appeared in the back yard. They're feral, but Betty and Don have adopted them. They have two houses for them, close together, with the space between covered by a tarp (an old shower curtain). The kittens, now nearly cats, come inside to eat but won't stay long, won't let anyone touch them--although one of the males did one day rub on Betty's leg. Tonight was the first time I've seen them--they're part Siamese and really beautiful. And they seem to love their digs. Betty certainly arranges her life around them, getting up to feed them at 6 a.m. The ways of feral cats are so different from the domesticated animals I know that these cats make a fascinating study in wild life. Trusting, but only to a point. I think there must be a parallel with the homeless people of our world. But this particular family of cats has lucked into the best deal ever--and they have healed Betty. Tonight, with the temperature to go down to 13, they are cozy and comfortable.
Tonight Betty, Jeannie, and I had our belated Christmas dinner at Betty's house. She fixed a feast--appetizers of bacon-wrapped marinated artichokes, a wonderful salad with craizins and a blue cheese dressing, pork tenderloin on polenta, asparagus, and a chocolate trifle with blueberries for dessert. We ate in front of the fire and had a good visit--as Jeannie says, with just the three of us we're free to gossip and talk about anything we want, and we did.
Last April, Betty and her husband, Don, had to put down their aged cat, Maggie, whom both adored. Just when Betty was sunk in despair over that, a mama cat and her kittens appeared in the back yard. They're feral, but Betty and Don have adopted them. They have two houses for them, close together, with the space between covered by a tarp (an old shower curtain). The kittens, now nearly cats, come inside to eat but won't stay long, won't let anyone touch them--although one of the males did one day rub on Betty's leg. Tonight was the first time I've seen them--they're part Siamese and really beautiful. And they seem to love their digs. Betty certainly arranges her life around them, getting up to feed them at 6 a.m. The ways of feral cats are so different from the domesticated animals I know that these cats make a fascinating study in wild life. Trusting, but only to a point. I think there must be a parallel with the homeless people of our world. But this particular family of cats has lucked into the best deal ever--and they have healed Betty. Tonight, with the temperature to go down to 13, they are cozy and comfortable.
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
Twelfth Night
When I was a young child, we had neighbors who adopted me. They had no children, and I became the child Auntie E. and Uncle Jack never had. He was a great jokester but a true gentleman, always walking me home after visits to their house--where I felt as at home as I did in my own house. Auntie E. was a "lady"--I don't know how to explain that except she was always patrician, regal, all those things, though I suspect she came from rural roots--her sister, who I came to know well, was nothing like that.
Auntie E. instituted a custom that has continued in my family until this day, though I have no idea where she got it. She and Uncle Jack were devout Catholics, but I don't think this came from their church. But on January 6th, the night the three wise men are supposed to have arrived at the manger in Bethlehem with their gifts, Auntie E.always had us gather and each throw a sprig of evergreen on the fire, making a wish, which we could tell no one.
Tonight, sixty or more years later, we followed that ritual in my home. My children grew up with it, though I expect Jordan is the only one who folllows it to this day. Jordan, Christian, Jacob, and my neighbor Susan came for supper--Susan was essential because she had the only live greens, in a wreath that had been given them. I fixed a scalloped potato, ham and cheese casserole, and then we burned our greens. Jacob, who had been really a spoiled rotten brat when he got here, got in the spirit of things and told me he wanted to help me burn my sprig. It was all great fun, and, of course, I can't tellyou my wish--then it would never come true. Fun to think about what a three-year-old might wish. In sum, it was a night of ritual and fellowship and good times.
The arctic freeze that has hit most of the country is due here tonight, and the media have scared us witless with predictions of extreme cold, possible precipitation, etc. I can stand cold but not ice. I had three meetings scheduled for tomorrow and have re-scheduled all of them, partly out of concern for my dog Scooby. I can't leave him out in that cold but can't leave him in without me. Besides, it will be nice to sleep late and get going slowly. I've had to rush every morning this week--how un-retirement is that? I've manuscripts and books to read, email to answer, etc.--and a bit of leftover scalloped potatoe for dinner. I'll be a happy camper.
Auntie E. instituted a custom that has continued in my family until this day, though I have no idea where she got it. She and Uncle Jack were devout Catholics, but I don't think this came from their church. But on January 6th, the night the three wise men are supposed to have arrived at the manger in Bethlehem with their gifts, Auntie E.always had us gather and each throw a sprig of evergreen on the fire, making a wish, which we could tell no one.
Tonight, sixty or more years later, we followed that ritual in my home. My children grew up with it, though I expect Jordan is the only one who folllows it to this day. Jordan, Christian, Jacob, and my neighbor Susan came for supper--Susan was essential because she had the only live greens, in a wreath that had been given them. I fixed a scalloped potato, ham and cheese casserole, and then we burned our greens. Jacob, who had been really a spoiled rotten brat when he got here, got in the spirit of things and told me he wanted to help me burn my sprig. It was all great fun, and, of course, I can't tellyou my wish--then it would never come true. Fun to think about what a three-year-old might wish. In sum, it was a night of ritual and fellowship and good times.
The arctic freeze that has hit most of the country is due here tonight, and the media have scared us witless with predictions of extreme cold, possible precipitation, etc. I can stand cold but not ice. I had three meetings scheduled for tomorrow and have re-scheduled all of them, partly out of concern for my dog Scooby. I can't leave him out in that cold but can't leave him in without me. Besides, it will be nice to sleep late and get going slowly. I've had to rush every morning this week--how un-retirement is that? I've manuscripts and books to read, email to answer, etc.--and a bit of leftover scalloped potatoe for dinner. I'll be a happy camper.
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