Yeah, yeah it’s late blah blah.
But frankly? Relating back to my prior post, it’s been fucking cold up here. So cold, in fact, that I could NOT sit in my room and type because my fingers were hiding. And shaking. Or bundled up in mittens. In the house, peeps. And I know we are not alone in the c-c-cold…it’s been cold in a lot of places, I know it. Friends with frozen pipes in the mid-west. Friends in the south dealing with snow and ice and freezing (for them) temps. And I have a beloved friend in Vermont who told me it had been double-digits below zero last weekend.
Think about that for a moment.
Double. Digits. Below. Zero.
That was the actual fucking AIR temperature.
I’m never moving to Vermont. Ever. I’m handling this cold–barely. But that is pure torture of a kind that would have me throwing out my safeword like the President throws out the opening pitch of the World Series. And then today came. It’s amazing! It’s WONDERFUL! It’s 22* blissful degrees. Now, a few weeks ago, 22* would have evoked a shiver. Perhaps a delicate shudder. “Oh dear, it’s 22*, peeps…”
What a difference a week makes. After never even popping up close to 20 for a full seven days (we tied a record set one hundred years ago), today, many of us are in tee shirts. The woodstoves are quiet, the house heaters are actually able to go off for periods of time, and everyone is smiling.
Because it’s warm, doncha know?!
And you know what it means when it warms up after a cold spell in New England, right? It means snow is coming. Yup. It always, always works that way. Freeze your asses off, and BOOM a snowstorm gets us back on track as far as temperature goes. (Mom Nature: “okay, I’ll warm you up…but it comes with a price…” )
So it’s not just a bit of snow. Not a “regular” storm. Nope.
It’s a nor’easter! (Bonus points if you read that in voice of the Wizard of Oz, “it’s a twistah!”). Make no mistake, though. We LOVE our nor’easters up here. Oh , we shudder and plan, and check for salt and the shovels. We grumble and gripe and “frigging snow..” and make sure all and sundry have been told
“didja hear it’s gonna snow??!”
and gear up the cars and all that..but deep in our Yankee hearts, we LOVE a big old snowstorm.
I’m no exception to that.
A day at home will mean time to write. Time to nap. Time to chill.
Ah. Yeah, that. “Chill”…
for after the storm? It’s going to get wicked cold. No, really.
Yeah, yeah, I know this is a sex blog. But it’s really hard to get all excited about sexy stuff when you have to wear three layers in your house because it is so damn cold. And tomorrow is HNT day…which means cold nips. Frozen nips. Tits with big ole goose bumps on ’em. Hmmm…kinda makes me think of a story…and …okay, I can see there’s still some sexy stuff hidden in the deep, warm corners of my dirty little mind.
So now you have something to look forward to…a sexy little tale on the coldest day of the new year (maybe the coldest day all year with none to break it? One can only hope.)
Polish those shovels, pervie peeps, and I’ll be back. I have a sudden urge to write. And then…”nap”…hehehe.