The Upper Midwest has been grappling with a devil of a windchill for about three weeks now, culminating (I hope) in tomorrow’s real forecasted high of -8 degrees. The governor of Minnesota called off every school in the state with projections for northern settlements’ temperatures to hit -80. Living the dream.
Sorry for your snow and cold this week, East Coast.
Yesterday morning warmed up to a positively balmy 30 degrees, so we chowed down a few pastries at Donutland and headed to Morgan Creek. The open prairie turns into a cross-country ski course/husky paradise in winter. Temps were already dropping by noon and now they’re back at below-zero windchills.
This seems to bring out full-moon caliber craziness, too. An older woman approached me at the grocery store last week to ask about my infinity scarf. She crotchets, she says, and has seen this style all over the place and wants to try it. I give her the scarf, she counts the rows, returns it and thanks me.
“I crocheted for Sonny and Cher, you know,” she says as she starts to walk away. “Well, for Cher. Big full sleeves on a mini-dress.”
I’m choosing to believe her.
Chris is still biking, by the way. Made a grocery run this morning on his Surly Pugsley to get last-minute beer-making supplies for today’s first attempted batch. IPA is the new stocking-up-for-disaster bread and milk.