Morning Thanks

Garrison Keillor once said we'd all be better off if we all started the day by giving thanks for just one thing. I'll try.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Morning Thanks--reprieve

The temp didn't dip like we thought it would last night. Right now, it's 56 degrees, just about ten degrees warmer than everybody predicted, and that's okay. I guess. In truth, I was looking forward to the first two-dog night--in our case, one-cat night, looking forward to a first fresh gift from the great northwest.

Still, 56 degrees is nothing to sneeze at because I'm not sure we've ever run air-conditioning more than we did this summer. It's seemed infernally and eternally hot--and humid. I can spend all day long in a haze of sweat. I walk home--two blocks--and I've got torrents down the back of my neck. I don't think we topped the century mark once, so my son in Oklahoma would have no sympathy, I'm sure; but it's been beastly hot.

And I know--I remember--last winter's beastly cold. I remember snow coming day after day, week after week, and, like some stupid, thoughtless visitor, never even considering what we thought. I remember fat clots of ice forming like miniature glaciers above our gutters. I remember crunching snow beneath my feet, frozen car seats, and tires seeming out of round. I remember festooning the basement water pipes with electric wire to keep the darn things from spouting gushers. I remember being locked up in the house for what seemed forever. I remember praying for warmth--I remember all of that, I swear.

Still, I'm just dying for cool weather and thankful, this morning, for a reprieve.

Fickle old fart.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

This reader thinks you're neither an old fart or fickle.