The answer this morning is: -26º
It was much too cold for me go outside in my jammies, even to take a photo for you, gentle readers. Thankfully it quickly "warmed up" (relatively speaking) once the sun was up.
(current, tomorrow/tomorrow night, Saturday)
We've been very lucky here at our ranchero. The power and water have worked without fail, the wood stove hums merrily along all day keeping the house warm. Our beagle of course will only nap under the wood stove - silly creature. The World's Greatest Neighbor called yesterday and, after Rick shoveled the 4' drift away from our gate so it would open, WGN ran his Kaboda up the driveway so we could get off-property if we wanted to.
Best of all, Rick and I spent three days together in the house without incident. A test of a happy marriage, we passed with flying colors.
But the extreme weather this week has me thinking about other cold spells. Two are so memorable they put this week to same.
The first, in the mid '80's, was a storm that went through the college town where I lived. It was -27º, blowing like stink, and classes were not canceled. Fool that I was at that age, I bundled up (we were in the mountains after all, and theoretically prepared for such things), and went to class. I didn't own a car and there was too much snow for a bicycle, so I headed out on foot. I don't remember how long it took me to get to the art building, but I do remember that my sunglasses (RayBans, I was such a hottie) had frozen to my cheeks and I had to wait for my face to thaw before removing them - totally fogged/iced up indoors - so I didn't tear my face off.
It was much too cold for me go outside in my jammies, even to take a photo for you, gentle readers. Thankfully it quickly "warmed up" (relatively speaking) once the sun was up.
On the other hand, our sunrise was spectacular. The mountains visible for the first time in days, the hard air shortening the space between us, the sun's pink glow bouncing of the mountains' snowpack like a boxer's right hook.
A warming trend for the next three days:(current, tomorrow/tomorrow night, Saturday)
| -20°F | 22° | 7° | 36° |
| Feels Like: -34° | High | Low | High |
| Past 24-hr: Precip: 0 in Snow: 0 in | Chance of Precip: 20% | Chance of Precip:10% | Chance of Precip:10% |
| Wind:From N at 5mph | Wind:NNW at 9 mph | Wind:NNW at 8 mph | Wind:NW at 9 mph |
We've been very lucky here at our ranchero. The power and water have worked without fail, the wood stove hums merrily along all day keeping the house warm. Our beagle of course will only nap under the wood stove - silly creature. The World's Greatest Neighbor called yesterday and, after Rick shoveled the 4' drift away from our gate so it would open, WGN ran his Kaboda up the driveway so we could get off-property if we wanted to.
Best of all, Rick and I spent three days together in the house without incident
But the extreme weather this week has me thinking about other cold spells. Two are so memorable they put this week to same.
The first, in the mid '80's, was a storm that went through the college town where I lived. It was -27º, blowing like stink, and classes were not canceled. Fool that I was at that age, I bundled up (we were in the mountains after all, and theoretically prepared for such things), and went to class. I didn't own a car and there was too much snow for a bicycle, so I headed out on foot. I don't remember how long it took me to get to the art building, but I do remember that my sunglasses (RayBans, I was such a hottie) had frozen to my cheeks and I had to wait for my face to thaw before removing them - totally fogged/iced up indoors - so I didn't tear my face off.
The other was the Opening Day one day in April at Candlestick Park. The fog poured in from the Bay, like icewater, seeping through my clothes and boots and into the very marrow of my bones. Trapped in our seats for the game, unable to generate enough heat through exercise (Rick is a furnace, and wasn't suffering as I was), it was the coldest I have ever been in my life. Even though I was dressed like the proverbial bag lady, layered with long johns and double socks, gloves, scarf, hat, heavy coat, etc. it was a soul-sucking misery without equal. It may have been a Croix game, I don't remember.
This sign has been making the rounds on the internet, so I can not credit its origin. But I think it's apropos.
So I will keep the home fires burning in the wood stove and watch the dogs' feet so they don't bring in enormous iceballs and be grateful it's a dry cold.
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