Cold

Here’s today’s photo, Okra demonstrating to us that it is, in fact, cold outside. And yeah, as we know from the increasingly fevered voices of the media and the internet and the people who are walking in and out of the bookstore, it’s really fucking cold outside. In fact, just two minutes ago my daughter was nerding out and telling me with great excitement that it is 19 degrees below zero right now. She takes wind chill seriously. In the interests of journalistic integrity, I must say that Okra doesn’t, really, and that you could probably find her in a similar position on most days even when the wind chill is, like, 72.

Wind chill or no, I am extremely glad I quit smoking in November 2012 and thus no longer have to go out there every hour or so to try to kill myself slowly. In fact I actually had several meanass self satisfied ex smoker moments today and got to say HA HA like Nelson more than once. What? Being a bitchy ex smoker is one of the main reasons to quit smoking in the first place.

Tomorrow is my day off and I’m going to bake a cake or at least something cake-ish for my auntie the Queen of Bohemia, who turns a delightful 85 on Wednesday. With a little gods given luck – and the pipes don’t freeze, I’ve got the taps all running, which is freaking me out about wasting water and money but then the plumber would be more, I guess, still it hurts – I will write some more tomorrow. The fucking pipes better not freeze. I went down to the Room of Freezing Pipes, one of the gifts given us by the previous owners of my house, who had a great deal of enthusiasm but, alas, very little money or skill, the other night after I got home from the bar. I nailed up a blanket more or less in front of the pipes as best I could plus I put a lamp with an old school incandescent light bulb in it going right under them, so we shall see and hope that does the trick. Stupid global climate change.

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