I recall a bus driver telling me, years ago, that the worst weather of the winter is over President’s day.
He took his vacation, every year, during that week.
Wisdom from someone who knows.
He should have been a meteorologist.
Growing up in Northern Minnesota did not prepare me for the ridiculously brutal weather we experienced this weekend.
This old house creaked and groaned, battered by the winds.
The furnace could not keep up with 20 below wind chills.
I sat in the living room this morning, wearing flannel pajamas, socks, a robe and a fur coat. Yes, a fur coat. And I was still cold.
I am thankful that the power stayed on, and the winds have subsided to 30 mph.
A very stressful weekend, indeed.
Hey, Mr Bus Driver: I hope you have a great vacation in Tahiti.