When I left the house this morning my car thermometer read four degrees. Four. Four degrees. I really did not want to leave the house but kept telling myself things would get better if I would just go. Things were fine, but it was excruciatingly cold.
All the while I was gone I kept thinking how much better it would be to be home. Reading. With a cup of tea. The only problem being that I would likely read in bed, where it’s warmest, but I always fall asleep when I read in bed during the day.
A cave, if you will, to hibernate if you are unable to migrate. Fortunately it’s the Midwest. 40 by Friday. I’ll do my shopping then.