long johns

My dining-room-window thermometer is the dial kind. The lowest number is -40 (which can be either Celsius or Fahrenheit). This morning the needle was pointing about where -45 F. would have been. It can't move any further. I have no idea how cold it really was. Harriet the Echo declined to participate, and I saw no point in running the battery down "trying"; I was just glad to be able to get the driver's door closed, latched, and locked again. The latches get very stiff in this weather. And sitting on the normally comfortable, nicely cushioned driver's seat feels just like sitting down on a plank.

Sooooo. I came to work on the bus. Wearing the winter outfit as described yesterday plus one spiffy set of silk long underwear (the bottom half, I can always add fluffy sweaters to the top half). They make an astonishing difference.

I learned an endearing thing about Prairie Metropolis this morning, reading the paper. At these temperatures there are NO express bus routes. All buses stop for all passengers. NOBODY stands in the cold. I was scrabbling for my cash fare when I got on this morning -- "just take a seat, Ma'am, that's all right"...

Also at these temperatures locksmiths operate on a different set of protocols..."My two-year-old locked me out of the house in my dressing-gown" brings a locksmith just as fast as his wheels will turn, no matter what he's doing.

Because we are out of "uncomfortable" now and into "life-threatening." I had to change buses at the University terminus, hearing the driver's parting words -- "Everybody stay wrapped up and warm, I want to see all those noses and ears still attached tonight!" Fortunately there is no wind at all, and the sun, now well up, should dissipate the ice-fog (which was greatly intensified by the morning rush-hour, diminished though that was).

Time to call the Bible study participants and cancel tonight's session, I think. My secretary left a message -- car won't start and pipes frozen in her house (actually, where the main line enters the house, so she's at home "waiting for the county..."). But my kitchen-renovation crew have appeared! bless their hearts!