I really should be walking out the door right now. Our van needs gas so friends can pick up free bread later today, and we need milk (how did I live in Georgia for 12 years, and get caught without milk on a snow day?) and I need to do that all early because I’ll be hosting said free bread for our neighborhood in the afternoon. I really should be walking out the door right now.
But it’s eight degrees Fahrenheit out there – zero with the wind chill – (-13/-18 if you need the Celsius) and the thought of poking my toe out into it makes my liver shiver.
I grew up in northern climes and walked to school in temperatures like this on a regular basis. In fact, at this temperature we even went outside for P.E. and lunch break. I know that we didn’t just hole up in our houses and pretend the cold didn’t exist, because that’s a sure fire way to insanity when the snow sticks by early November and doesn’t melt again until March. I know in my head that I have lived like that in winter. I know that large portions of the world population can function, and even thrive, in temperatures below freezing.
Knowing and doing are two different things.
Granted, getting a toddler and preschooler dressed and ready for the cold is taking the winter living to a new level – one that I’ve never had to do before now. And wrapping my increasingly growing baby bump up for the cold is becoming a bit more of a challenge – again, not a challenge I had to face (praise the Lord) as a fourteen year old on the playground. These are not, however, insurmountable odds for my family and friends living in colder climates, so they should not seem as daunting to me as they do.
The forecast is calling for more snow and temperatures below freezing for the next ten days. There’s no “waiting it out” for a couple of days until temperatures warm up to 50, like I would have in Georgia. I’ve just got to make the decision to get out and live my life – cold or not.
I’m heading out there.