Polar Vortex

I heard on a weather update yesterday that it's been much colder than average most days since December 4. Sounds about right. I've had the inner layer zipped into my jacket since the week after Thanksgiving; most winters, I wear only the outer shell most days.

The first frigid cold spell broke in time for Christmas. I was keeping track of how many days of respite followed each week or so of bone chilling cold, but I gave that up awhile back. I lost interest when our temperatures didn't come close to breaking records. In January schools have been closed a couple of days, and shortly after the year began, even Rainbow Foods and other businesses closed early.  For some employees, the extreme cold has created the added hardship of reduced hours and income.

I feel confined to, and by, the house. Sometimes the outing of the day is grocery shopping or running a few errands. I wear a hat, scarf and warm mittens to shovel snow and clear the sidewalks. As I worked outside this morning, I thought about the very few times in my life when I've been really cold:

• frozen toes as a child from walking in deep snow in search of a Christmas tree
• frostbitten fingers from a holding an iced up rope tow as a young skier
• snowshoeing in too few layers for the weather
• skiing with Bob in Quebec City, when I couldn't keep my glasses fog free
• tent camping near Crosslake, when I froze in my light summer sleeping bag
• camping in Yellowstone National Park, when I couldn't warm up after falling in a frigid mountain lake

That's about it -- until now. I'm now remembering, a little wistfully, my hand wringing over global warming when we had a long run of positively balmy winters a decade or so ago.

As the number of tolerable indoor activities diminishes, that five o'clock cocktail hour is a very welcome little reward for making it through yet another sub-zero day.