My mother has a phrase that she often uses during sweltering Texas summers. You will often hear her lamenting that it's "too hot to live." Although, being a true Texan, she might also remark in the same sentence that Texas is the only place any reasonable person would want to live. And that is my mother in a nutshell, but I digress.
I might have to adopt the opposite phrase for Salt Lake City. It is too cold to live. I know there is a certain temperature where all matter ceases to exist (or something like that, I'm drawing on chemistry classes from 8 years ago...) and I fear we are getting dangerously close.
Yesterday a patient remarked to me that it was supposed to get down to 18. To which I incredulously replied "Degrees?!?"
Tonight it is supposed to plummet to 12. 12 Degrees. 12 Is a fine number to use in many circumstances. It is a great number of eggs to have in a carton, and it's a lovely number of roses to receive on Valentine's Day. But it is not, in my opinion, a friendly number when used to describe a weather forecast.
You may recall all summer I was practically an ever-flowing fount of praise regarding weather here. The summer was so nice! When it got too hot, we went up into the mountains when were able. There we would get a little reprieve from the heat. Now, however, 12 degree weather is our reprieve. We're in the valley where it's downright toasty compared to the blustery mountains. There's nowhere for us to go to get out of the cold except to bed with a hot water bottle.
So, if you don't hear from me for a while it will be safe to assume that either the state of Utah reached absolute zero and has ceased to exist, or I'm taking an extended hibernation under my comforter. I might also be busy with work and other commitments. But I'm predicting one of the first two.
So, Baby Week ended rather abruptly last week. That had to do with Peter and I traveling and me not scheduling the posts. I'll post the last several over the next week!
I hope you are all staying warm!