This is the coldest winter that I can remember. When I was a kid I never noticed the cold, and as a teenager I didn’t notice anything outside of my personal bubble, so I cannot say for certain this is the coldest year in recent history. Usually we get blasted with below zero weather for a few days and then it clears off and we’re back to average (for us, meaning in the teens or twenties) temps until the next cold front comes in.
This year the God of Winter decided to shit on us for 2 straight months.
Case in Point: I have not worn actual, honest-to-God pants, made of denim or other materials, with buttons or zippers, in about 2 weeks. This has been my wardrobe:
Leggings? Good. Pajama pants? Very good. Husband’s old Army sweatpants? Most excellent. Today that streak ends, however, because we have no milk and the fruit/veg situation is getting serious. A grocery store run (and the trouser-wearing that accompanies it) is imminent.
Also? In that picture? It looks like I have cankles because the leggings are bunched up in the socks. I don’t know why I feel the need to point these things out.
The chicken is still in the basement and will remain there through today. Tomorrow the cold is supposed to break and I’ll put her back outside. The dog has taken to sleeping 16 hours a day, and who can blame her?
I’m going to go crawl back underneath a blanket and will return here on Friday. See you then!
- Strawberry Stuff, Or Strawberry Torte with Cream Cheese
- Photo Friday: Frost on the Windowpane