THE SNOWMAN IS ASKING TO COME IN AND GET WARM IN THE FREEZER

Okay, I expect a week of double-digit below zero Fahrenheit this time of year.

 This photo is right-on, but stolen from National Geographic.

 It looks better than my picture.

 This is my picture.  The sign should read minus 8

but it’s so cold the rest of the digits don’t work.

It happens.  Every year.  That much I’ve learned.  What I haven’t learned is the part about getting out of the way.  I just sit here—year after year and watch the world freeze solid.

Yesterday I waited until the sun had warmed the air to a plus one and finally wrapped up until nothing but my eyes were showing and went out.  By the time I made it a whole block to my destination I had to remove my glasses because they’d frosted over.  Then my eyelashes grew icicles.  The friends I went to visit let me in out of pity even though they had no idea who I was.

This is nuts.  One week I’ll accept.  

But now, after a brief warm up to above zero, 

the Alberta Clipper  is back.

There are students all over town just arrived from places like California and Florida with cars not juiced up with double strength anti-freeze. They run out in their sandals to jump in their ride to make their before-sunrise class only to find wheels frozen to the ground and the engine block has become an ice block.

We saw a couple hurrying to church this morning in double-digit below zero.  He was just dressed in his suit and she was in a short skirt and heels.

Not her. But like this. 

Last week we gave a ride to some newbies in this same situation.  The couple this week were within a few yards of the warmth of the building so we let them go.

Sometimes even a tough winterized car just can’t take the cold anymore.  After a few cranks they will groan, gasp and go silent. Mine is there.  Two days ago she went into cardiac arrest.  I called in a code blue.  We got out the paddles, yelling, “Clear!” Coaxing. “Stay with me!”  Finally she revived and seemed okay, but this morning we found her cold and dead in the driveway.  We’ll keep her on life support and get a new heart for her tomorrow at Walmart.  She should make a quick recovery after that.  This kind of weather makes the long muddy “spring” look so good.

This is added in answer to joeh's question in the comments. 

 The answer is half-way between -14 and -9.

SNOW WALK--MAIN STREET

When you’re living in snow country in January and you don’t have a job which forces you to leave the house, and you’re starting to feel the onset of a bad case of cabin fever; you have several choices.

1. You can crawl under a blanket and hope winter goes away.
2. You can bang your head against a window. It doesn’t help.
3. You can make yourself spend a long boring hour sweating on your treadmill.
4. You can go for a walk even though the weather forecasters say the weather outside is frightful.

I chose the last one.  It was dark outside, but this time of year it’s almost always dark outside.  Snow had fallen during the night and the temperature was well below freezing. I decided to stay on Main Street where buildings would block the cold breeze.

I hoped the sidewalks would have been cleared.

But no such luck.

The city street crew was busy loading snow into trucks.

Most people who live here have snow tires and a good battery on their car.

 Getting to work in this kind of weather is just part of the job.

 Kids’ hope turns to despair when there is no 

announcement from their district of school closure.

 I’m the first one to make tracks down the path in the park. 

Good thing I’m wearing my clompy boots with snow cleats.

 There are already plenty of people out clearing their walks of all that white stuff.

 This guy had two shovels and was getting the job done twice as fast.

Some home owners hire a neighbor with a backhoe to clear their drive.

 Some, like us, have a snow thrower to do the job.

 The bicycle shop still has bikes for sale, 

but this time of year the snow board equipment

 is front and center in their window.

 Ah---the bakery.  How cruel to send scents of cinnamon 

and fresh bread out into the street before they open their doors.  

Must—make it home.  Breakfast is calling!

CRYSTAL WHITE

 For the first morning in a week...

The thermometer doesn't read below zero. 

That's minus eighteen and descending in metrics.

Instead we have lace crystals.

Even the scruffy cone flowers in my garden are spiffed up 

Nature is amazing.