Cold and Colder

How you know it’s cold outside:

- You go to the gas station and half the pumps aren’t working, and the credit card readers on the other half don’t work, forcing you to pay inside.

- Your dog (with his thick fur coat) merely sits down when you let him out and/or has to be carried back inside.

- Your nostrils freeze together when you breathe in through your nose.

- You start wearing running pants under your skirts/dresses and passing them off as really thick tights.

- You find yourself calculating how long you could possibly survive without having to step foot outside your home. (I figure, if the job/money thing wasn’t a factor = 2 months)

- You get up an extra 5-10 minutes earlier, so that you have time to let your car warm up a little before you make the frantic dash from back door to front seat.

- If you’re living in Minnesota in January.

For a news article outlining Minnesota's ad campaign, trying to change the image of it being just a frozen tundra, click here. (I actually heard news stories asking us Minnesotans to quit complaining about how cold it is. Ooops.)

The Iceman Cometh

The temperature in Minnesota has dropped to a number that is too embarrassing to admit.

On a quick trip to the store to buy some fresh mozzarella for a homemade pizza were making tonight, the temperature proved a force to be reckoned with. Our car coughed in exhaustion before finally starting up with the scariest, about-to-explode-from-too-much-effort, sort of noise. We hurried to the car, Harper in tow, and drove to the market, a mere .5 miles away. I ran in while Eric waited with Harper in the running automobile (in true Minnesota fashion). Then we zipped back home, letting Harper 'do his business' before rushing inside.

It was during this 'doing his business' portion of the evening that it began to get frightening. Harper ran a few yards away to attend to his business in private, Eric following after him with a plastic bag at the ready. But then Harper wouldn't move. Eric grabbed him by the collar and directed him toward the house, but he only went a few feet. I stood on the porch frantically calling his name. Eric prodded him on. Finally, Harper just froze, refusing to go another step in the too too too too cold Minnesota winter. It was at this moment that I saw the sweetest and most heroic thing I have ever seen.

Eric picked up Harper, all 85 pounds of him, and carried him to the house. It was too cold to be outside and it was too cold for our sweet dog to walk any further. Left to his own devices, I believe he would have hunkered down in as small a ball as he could manage and given up. But, instead, Eric picked him up and carried him home.

And believe me, he has been the most grateful dog since.

Cold and Blue

You know it's going to be a good day when you read this headline in the morning paper:

Arctic blast to send the temperatures tumbling
Cold snap could last for 10 days, the Weather Service said

In other news, a Happy 50th Birthday to our beloved sky blue friends, "The Smurfs," originally Les Schtroumpfs in French. The announcement of this milestone brought back not just found memories of a happy communal fairyland thriving despite the presence of a singular Smurfette and baby, but also of a surprisingly controversial conversation that I had while living in Barcelona with some of my wonderful Belgian friends. A question of national ownership arose while discussing the blue guys and I, as an American watcher of the Hanna-Barbera cartoon series, felt pride in such a well made American cartoon, while the Belgians gasped and demanded that I recognize the cartoon's creator Peyo, a native son of Belgium.

We finally agreed to compromise, or rather I finally made an attempt at a diplomatic statement to settle the issue. Something to the effect of, "While we do credit the Smurf's very existence to the artistic genius of Peyo, we also acknowledge that it would never have been shared by millions of children around the world if not for the efforts of Hanna-Barbera." The Belgians then replied that maybe a future in diplomacy was in store for me someday. Some wars have been started over less.

For a cheesy News Clip that is equally as diplomatic, click here.

An Experiment of Micro-wave Proportions

When my husband and I returned from our holiday trip to Utah, we came home to a house that we determined, after conducting several experiments, had no micro waves. The spinner would spin, the light would turn on, the clock would count down the seconds towards yummy quesadilla or leftovers, but there was no heat.

Determining that there was no warmth coming from our beloved appliance, we called it: Jan 1, 2008, 9:00 p.m.

So now (after realizing that the cheapest microwave our closest discount store carried was $70), we have decided to conduct an experiment as to whether we actually need a microwave, taking up valuable counter space. Can we travel back in time 50 years and survive without this wonderful appliance?

Let the games begin.

Better hope there's not a Zombie Apocalypse

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P.S. In case you can't read that it says: "You have a 32% chance of surviving a Zombie Apocalypse"

P.P.S. The site this links to is guaranteed to provide hours of wasted fun time.

P.P.P.S. Pete, this one's for you.