It is a beautiful, bright day. Just like yesterday. I'm comfortably settled on the sofa in the downstairs sitting room. Jewel is curled up beside me (encroaching slightly) and sleeping, and she's a living, breathing heating pad. Ruth is curled on her cushion, gazing back with half-open eyes. (I think she knows I'm writing about her!) My mandolin practice session this morning was good, I'm finally winning the battle against a complicated piece of music. The weekend schedule is clear, enabling me to continue the progress made on my manuscript this week. On Tuesday I attended my first Chairs & Vice Chairs meeting, followed by the Fish & Game & Marine Resources Committee's organisation meeting, followed by a presentation from the F&G Department, followed by a diocesan Mission Resources (not to be confused with Marine Resources!) meeting. All good.
I refuse to let what I saw this morning burst my bubble of contentment.
That's right. Minus 9 degrees. I'm sure it looked worse overnight.
I've heard this is the coldest day for 4 years. Somebody's keeping track.
The temperature has now zoomed up to plus 9 degrees, and I think that's where it will hold. Sure, it's a single digit...but there are worse single digits. And it isn't windy.
Yesterday, when it was nearly as cold as now, I spotted a robin. A miserable robin. She was perched in a sunny spot in one of our big hemlocks, feathers fluffed out as much as possible against the cold. Considering the date, she's no harbinger of spring, or the "January thaw." (We should be so lucky.)
Poor thing, she's lost. Or crazy. I hope she's already flown south to warmer climes...like, oh, Nashua.
Lucky I could hibernate during the extreme cold spell these past 2 days. Today, however, I've got a music lesson, so I'll be out in it. But not for long!
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