Looking at the weather forecast, I'm appalled to see that it's going to be really really tragically cold this week. We've been spoiled the last few years in the matter if cold, as in, it's been reasonable temperatures and we haven't wanted to commit any desperate act on account of the unspeakable Weather. Whereas now. Well, I'm not going outside. That's all I can say.
Marigold came in just now with her hat and boots and pjs on and told us she was "going out". Almost let her but opted for her just being mad at me instead. No, poor child and poor dog and poor sanity, we'll be inside all week. We should be super productive what with not having to worry about putting on shoes or walking out to gaze at the evening sky or finding everyone a sweater.
Do I sound bitter? I'm not really. In other times and seasons I've had to walk around in these frigid temperatures. I'm deeply grateful for the luxury of not ever having to go anywhere. But in a cosmic sense I think this kind of cold must be a sign of God's anger with Binghamton. Otherwise I can find no reasonable explanation for it.