It’s supposed to warm up to minus 16 today. The boys have the day off, but I don’t think we’ll be leaving the house. Even though I am keeping a food diary these days, I may have to spring for a little extra creamer for another cup of coffee today.
I do not come from a tiny, delicate people. I come from people who crossed the Mississippi, and wandered yet further north. “Yes, this is it!” they cried. “We shall settle here where the winters will be good for our digestive health, and we shall eat lard!”
Maybe it wasn’t exactly like that, but I’m back on the food diary at any rate.
It’s never so bad right after Christmas. We ate so much and snacked so much and made so much to eat, that it was almost a relief. Now is when it’s getting tricky. It’s really cold out, and we’re stuck inside. A nice warm brownie with tiny peanut butter cups would be so good right about now, washed down with a lovely hot cocoa and optional marshmallows.
My sister cracked me up the other day with a line about eating the baking supplies. I’ve been eating chocolate chips straight out of the bag. My thought process is that chocolate chips out of the bag don’t really count because they’re not actually a baked product and not actually a candy bar. I’m not sure this is sound thinking.
The house just “cracked.” When it’s this cold the house . . . okay, I don’t really know. I’m sure it’s something scientific about the inside of the warm house and the outside cold. Perhaps we will hear the actual explanation from Cousin Josh. He knows all kinds of scientific-y things. Anyway, the house bangs really loudly and it sounds like it’s going to fall down. It’s not, but it’s an exciting indoor surprise — like indoor fireworks without the fun, colorful lights.