I’m sure you’ve seen in the news that we’re all under some kind of historically awful cold snap, and I’m sure you’ve seen your friends posting about 10F, GASP. Maybe even single digits?!
Yeah, fuck you all.
I say that as lovingly as possible, but God damn I would probably sell my soul to the devil to be complaining about 10 degrees above zero.
It is so fucking cold.
Of course, my car was in the shop last week and the assholes at the rental company dragged their feet on telling me there were no cars available, so I have been walking to work, about 1.5 miles. A perfectly fine and lovely walk above zero. A miserable, dangerous slog below zero.
Arya would like you to know it will probably never be warm again and also it is hard to pee when your feet hurt just from standing in the snow.
Tristan is warm and fat and happy, even if he does have permanent whisker icicles. He is wearing two blankets with a total of 440g of fill, and I dropped off brownies and hot chocolate for the barn staff and I hope to do the same again today, because, fuck. Please refer to the forecast above and look more closely at this coming Saturday, if you have not already.
My bank account is not. Please note, these are two separate thermostats. So add them together to get the true number of hours we’ve had to heat the house. Please also note that we keep the house around 60 degrees when we home and awake, and closer to 55 when we are away or asleep. Yeah.
So, an official list of casualties so far, noting that we are not nearly out of the woods:
- Two blanket straps. Brand new blanket straps. When metal gets cold, it just shatters, so all Tris had to do was bump against his stall wall. Maybe more to come.
- My eating plan. ALL THE CARBS, RIGHT FUCKING NOW.
- My bank account. We got an oil delivery last week. Our propane tank lid was fucking frozen solid to the top of the tank and I had to go out and (CAREFULLY) chip away at the 2″ of ice on it to check and see that yes, we need another propane delivery.
- My sanity. My last ride was on Christmas day. Enough said.
- My peace and quiet. We had people visiting through New Year’s to ski. It is too cold to ski. So I’ve gone into hosting overdrive.
Please make this stop, universe.