The Blast

Even by upper Midwest standards, our weather was cold this week. Very, very cold. Actual air temperature plunged to the negative 20's and beyond. Factor in a burly wind from the north and exposed skin didn't stand a chance. Schools were closed and some businesses cut their hours.The  Midwestern statement, "It could be worse," was not uttered much for a day or two. Meteorologists dubbed it "The Polar Vortex".

The sights and sounds of polar air attacking an environment are unique. My trek to the parking lot after work had a squeaky, scrunchy quality as I squashed frozen rivulets of snow and ice. The smell of exhaust was in the air as cars, started by remote starters, belched out their white plumage. My gray icicle of a vehicle (no remote starter in my purse) beckoned me with all the protection of a meat locker. The door squealed in a high pitch screech as I pulled it open. My face was non-pliable and I braced myself for the rock hard car seat. Moments of panic niggled my brain when I fumbled with the key, hoping against physics that my vehicle would start. The familiar errr-errr-errr was followed by the whoosh of the engine starting. Instinct told me to crank the heat but experience reminded me that a blast of cold air is not advised. My vehicle's tires crunched over the parking lot tundra and a chilly drive home began. My vehicle was warm when I pulled into the garage. Perfect timing.

A quick trip to the grocery store revealed the fashion statements of tundra people. Parkas with fur-trimmed hoods were bound up by bulky scarves. Mittens punctuated the ends of coat sleeves. Boots clomped along in the aisles and store employees were dressed in layers as the outdoor air followed us like strong perfume. There is probably a reason the Midwest is not known for elite fashion runways or trendy attire. I cannot help but smile when I see folks dressed for the weather rather than the latest fashion forecast. (My apologies to those who are stylish and live here.)

Comfort food takes on a utilitarian meaning when the temperatures plunge. Salads are lovely but nothing says survival like fat. Bring on the hearty soups, laden with potatoes or cream or both. Pass me another round of meatloaf and white bread. Drink another cup of hot chocolate, no skim milk allowed. And eat bacon. Several slices, if need be.  I guarantee it will take the edge off. Cold weather is a fight to the finish and I prefer to win.

My Florida sister apologetically shared that they were also a little cool this week at 60 degrees. I told her not to apologize. I reminded her that all regional locations have an upside. Our frigid temperatures are freezing the bejeebers out of damaging larvae lurking in our trees and mold spores snoozing in our gardens. Alligators and venomous water snakes are also less likely to join our ranks. No complaints here.

The really good news about a polar vortex is that it won't last forever. In fact, meteorologists are predicting a fifty degree swing upward for a day or two. Even from negative twenty, that is not bad. The parka hoods will be flipped back. The mittens will go back in the closet. And our cars will breathe a sigh of relief. We will miss our beautiful sun dogs but we are survivors. Bring it on, weather.