On days like this I’m glad I work from home.
Sometime in the wee hours of the morning the thunderstorm that had rumbled just enough to wake me up every hour or two turned into freezing rain and then sleet that pelted the windows, also preventing restful sleep. By dawn, some two inches of sleet over ice had accumulated to provide a nice landing zone for the snow that began about 6.
I was supposed to be in Norman, Oklahoma, this morning, covering a no-till conference. They called yesterday afternoon—thankfully, since I was just about to head north—to tell me the event had been cancelled in anticipation of a foot of snow.
Had they not called or had I left an hour earlier than I had planned, I would be stuck in a hotel this morning with no one to interview and a deadline facing me square in the face. I appreciate the notice.
The temperature has dropped steadily since yesterday. It was about 55 around noon, 43 when I went to bed last night. It was 23 when I got up this morning and is down to 16 now and continues its downward course. The weatherman says to expect 10 tonight, the coldest night in a decade. Tomorrow night, he said, expect single digits. Whoopee.
I plan no outside activities today. Nothing outdoors interests me enough to have a look. The morning paper lies forlornly in the driveway. I’ll read it online this morning. I’ll check the mail tomorrow. Building a snowman seems the height of foolishness. I have no sled, no skis and no desire to freeze my fingers making snowballs.
I don’t need groceries. I have cans of soup, bread and pork and beans. I have plenty of tea bags, milk, coffee and other beverages. I have potato chips and cheese. I’m good. I see no justification for backing my truck out of the garage before tomorrow. I don’t like to drive on ice. I don’t like to walk on ice. I don’t like to be exposed to wintry blasts that penetrate even the thickest layers of clothing.
Did I mention, they say winds may top 50 miles per hour today? That’s hard enough to blow these white pellets into exposed flesh with menacing intensity. I feel chapped skin just thinking about it. I would not do well as an Arctic explorer.
I am not the least bit interested in fishing today. Wading into a trout stream, even with waders and five layers of clothing underneath, would be misery. I would fear catching a fish and having to hold it long enough to release it. I’ll pass on piscatorial adventures today.
Actually, it’s a pretty good day to work. I suppose I could venture out and look for farmers somewhere and talk to them about dealing with this cold weather but I suspect they’re avoiding this misery the best they can, too. I certainly hope so but imagine more than a few are tending to animals. I hope they can be quick about it and get back to where it’s warm.
My phone is working. So is email. My office is comfortable. I believe I’ll stay in today.