the super big chill

If yesterday was cold, today is coldest. Perhaps not a record setter -- we are going to be two degrees shy of the lowest high ever (did I get your mind spinning on that one?), but surely in our time here in the Upper Midwest, this day is on the tip of the extreme. The NYTimes, noting Madison's temps this week, calls it the coldest in a generation. I'll vouch for that.

So many negative numbers! -25F (-32C) overnight. Only up to -12F (-25C) today. Down to -31F (-35C) tomorrow morning. And the wind chills! We are told to subtract another 20 to 30 degrees from what we have out there.

So cold, that the US Postal Service cancelled delivery for two days.

So cold that if you are dotty enough to go outside and play games, you'll see miracles happen. [This idea from a former colleague of mine: boil a full cup of water, go outside and throw it in the air! It will turn from liquid to gas before your eyes. Not a drop will fall to the ground!]











You'll ask -- go outside and play? Seriously?

The fact is that extremes stoke our curiosity: what will it be like...

Or maybe it's that we're rather joyous, having survived the first cold night (the power went off for a bit and that was a tad disconcerting, but then the electric clock went back to flashing its reassuring colorful numbers and we knew that we would pull through without much more than the occasional creak of protest from the old house). And more importantly, we found the animals to be okay too. Huddled around their heat sources, but doing fine!

(A rare photo of all three cats in one frame: Dance and Jacket are so skittish that once they see you, they do their disappearing act. Pffft! Gone.)






(The cheepers come down to check out the offerings, then go right back upstairs, where the heater is pushing some modestly warm air their way. All five, alive and accounted for!)






So, here we are, on a bright sunny day, feeling relieved.

(This is what -25F looks like!)






Not everything is functioning as it should, of course. None of our cars will start. Not today, not tomorrow. Ed was dismayed that I should even try to crank mine.

Breakfast conversation:
So how much did you crank it?
A couple of times. Maybe more like five times.
That's too bad. Let's hope you didn't completely drain the battery.






You need to know principles of mechanics to pull through extremes.


In the afternoon, the parents drop off Snowdrop.

Immediately she wants to go back to watercolor paints. Artist unleashed! Today, she goes beyond random application: she experiments with form, shape, color.





As she paints, we talk.
Look Gogs, this is an orange tree.
My mindless response -- orange you glad it's not a banana?
Huh?
Oh, it's from a joke. Here, let me tell you how it goes. I say knock knock, and ahah says -- who's there, go ahead ahah..
Who's there?
Banana.
Banana who?
Banana banana...
I am interrupted -- oh, Gogs, that's just a knock knock joke.
You know about knock knock jokes?
Of course!
From where?
We tell them at the lunch table.

She returns to her art and I think -- when did she stop being a three year old??






We talk about the cold outside and this triggers a recollection for her: isn't this weather perfect for hot chocolate?






Happy girl...






But in many ways, this newly grownup girl is the same Snowdrop I had here many months ago.
She turns to Ed, who is busy fixing a problem on his computer. Want to get married?
For her, marriage is all about the ceremony.
I laugh at the sidelines and sing a song that Ed and I heard again and again in Sorede. I've teased him endlessly with it -- 
It's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do
Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you!






Snowdrop throws a party after. She and I sit back on the orange couch "munching" our pretend macarons. She whispers to me -- we married a really nice guy, Gaga!
I laugh at the sweetness of her perspective.






In the late afternoon, when the temps are at their miserable highest (-12F/-25C), Ed tells us he's heading out to check on the cheepers and kitties for the day.
Can I come?
Snowdrop, it's too cold.
Oh pleeeeeease! I just love doing this! I'm not cold!
You're not cold because it's warm in the house.
Pleeeeeease!
Well, okay, but just for a minute and you have to really bundle up!

Will you take me on your shoulders, ahah?











Cover your face, Snowdrop!






The farmhouse feels so very toasty warm after our adventure. Perfect time for a book she has grown to love, despite its rather peculiar twists and turns. It tells me something about her taste in literature -- she'll take a lot of uncertainty and even incomprehensible permutations, if the plot culminates in a spectacularly warm and joyous ending. Where Are You Going Baby Lincoln has all that.






Tonight is, of course, the killer night. I tell Ed that it cant be that much worse at -31F than it was at last night's -25F. All these negative numbers are cold -- how much colder can super cold feel? Of course, I don't have to spend the night in the barn or the garage...

Cross fingers, do a dance of hope, and let's all look forward to warmer days ahead!