I haven’t yet turned on the heat in my house for the season. Let me rephrase that… as soon as I finish this sentence, I will be turning on the heat in my house for the season.
I awoke today and found the frost perched on the town.... J. Mitchell
But… for the past three nights, I’ve been pretending I’ve traveled afar and have been sleeping in the Icehotel, bundled up in layer upon layer of fleece… dreaming under piles of blankets topped by heavy faux fur. Any minute now, I suspect James Bond will whisk down my icy hallway in his elite automobile, stop abruptly — the car’s wheels sliding precariously close to me before coming to a halt — pop open the automatic passenger-side door and say to me, “We’re on. Get in,” before we zoom away in a frozen whir of snowflakes.
In reality… when I awoke this morning, I was trapped under the tightly curled-up body of my little black cat, Kitty. The thermostat says 60° on it. That’s about 20° higher than the outdoor temps, so I don’t think it’s all that bad… but I promised my daughter she wouldn’t have to wear socks to bed tonight as we were walking to the bus stop draped in scarves and earmuffs… and…
A cup of hot coffee does sound good about now….