Cold and Wet in Postcards 4

Milaka and Margot in the snow, Mt. Laguna, 1967. Photo: PAH.

I confess, it’s cold. Some of New York is in the 70’s, but here we are in the 40’s with a knife-like wind blowing across the pool. I couldn’t find my swim shirt this morning, so the wind spent it’s time cutting into anything I showed above the water. It feels like snow to me.

I remember it snowing once when I was a kid in Chula Vista. I joined the Army only to end up in the small snows of tidelands of Virginia. I thought the shallow stuff real snow and pridefully wore 3 inch heels and short skirts to work every day. I learned to appreciate life when I thoughtlessly drove down New Hampshire’s Franconia Notch on black ice at normal driving speed. Now I know what black ice is.

I know what real snow over my head looks like…and feels like. I visited Seedy’s in Alaska before the snow melted.

It’s cold today. Wonderful stuff. It may rain too. Delightful. I’m off to run errands in whatever weather nature offers today.

• Himself: Gym, work, meeting, humor, and laughter.
• Herself: More of Grumpy got cleaned yesterday. Under the hood looks almost new. Got out of the pool early. Dressed for grocery shopping, now have to make list. I like simple days like these.
• Reading: Read the new Evanovich, and moved back to Francis.
• Gratitudes: For being alive. For not ever going down Franconia Notch again.