That sharp, squeaky cold that knifes through your clothes no matter how thick and wooly. Thank god my new toe warmers came on Saturday (although we forgot to get in the mail so they spent Saturday night on the porch) so I can paste the little chemical packs to my socks in my boots and have a chance of staying warm, at least my toes do. I went downstairs to my clothing storage unit and carried up my only 2 turtlenecks and my warmest, thick old sweater shirt pullover thingy from Eddie Bauer which is too warm to wear unless it's below zero outside. You can be sure I'll be wearing long-johns, thick wool socks, an undershirt, a turtleneck, lined boots, AND that wooly pullover to work today. There will be potty trip planning instituted throughout the day. No sudden urges will be entertained due to the rigmarole of shucking jeans, shirts, longies, undies, etc. (TMI?) Oh, and it's windy too. Good times. (You can bet ol' Durwood won't be going out until it warms up a bit. Cold like this makes him breathless, even more breathless than normal.)
I got my 2 manuscript pages re-typed yesterday just like I said I would. It was a little tempting to keep going but I reined in that urge and put it aside. Just like when you start to exercise, you need to start a big project like that slowly so you don't burn yourself out and crap out before the job's done. *nods confidently*
DD told Durwood when they were here visiting that she makes her own laundry detergent, has for years. Last week's Craftster Project of the Week was how to make your own concentrated laundry detergent--and it looks intriguing. I asked DD about it yesterday and she said she's made it for years, that it costs pennies, makes 3 gallons at a time, and cleans her clothes just fine. I think I might try it. (Do you remember Mr. Wizard? I do believe that I got into trouble more than once doing "experiments" without Mom's input. I loved him and was so surprised and pleased that he was still going strong when DS & DD were little so they loved him too.)
January 21--Christian Wiltberger, Teapot. Chas sniffed the air but then remembered that carbon monoxide was odorless. She strained to see in the dim light. Were they bleeding? Were they breathing? A clap of thunder and the sizzle of lightning close by made her jump and propelled her over the threshold. Her wet shoes squeaked on the polished wood floor and she tiptoed to not track too much rain into the room. Her fingers trembled as she reached to touch her mother. Jessica's skin was as cold as the marble it resembled. Chas drew back her hand and lowered her heels to the floor. If Mama was dead she couldn't yell at her for tracking in the rain, but she would miss Uncle Lane. He was always on her side. She left the room untouched and went to call Chief Maloney.
Okay then. That's odd, but fun. I'm off to call the clinic to ask a question and then reluctantly disrobe to take a shower. When it's this cold, it seems almost too cold to get nekkid and wet, doesn't it? Today might be a good day for oatmeal for breakfast. There's always soup for lunch. Ta-ta, and bundle up.