The last time overnight that my phone pinged the weather report, at about 3 in the morning, it said was still 51 degrees. I had trouble believing my eyes when I saw it this morning, but maybe I should have. We didn't have far to walk home when things wrapped up around 10, but it was still exceptionally mild. I heard Mr S-P and our old college roommate mumbling behind me about how warm it was, and how it didn't feel like February. Today made up for the unseasonable warmth. It was overcast, practically foggy most of the day. It was significantly colder, and the extra humidity froze to the tips of the trees. It was absolutely beautiful out there, even along the interstate on the way to Costco. There were tiny little snowflakes off and on during the day, and snow started in earnest right around sunset. Last I heard, there was no snow in the forecast, and highs well above freezing. I like being pleasantly surprised.
Of course, I did finally give in and wash my car a few days ago. It was so filthy from driving on the last snowmelt and from brutal chinook winds that scoured out the old snow and sprinkled dust on every surface in northern Colorado. I didn't even wimp out and use the drive through carwash either. I got out and made a point of carefully washing the buildup of road grime that sticks under the roof detail over the back window. The big machine always misses it, so I have muddy water dripping down the back window every time I drive away from it. I was on such a high from the day I got my Paul Harris pin at Rotary, that I even had enough energy to get out and wipe the car dry with a towel. I so rarely put forth that much effort. I got about 72 hours of clean car, which for me is quite possibly a personal best. And now, it's covered in several inches of snow. Will be filthy tomorrow, after I have to drive to Denver and back again.
Early this morning, while the dogs were still inside hiding from the cold, I was summoned to the kitchen window. The Mr had put little fences underneath some of the bird feeders, so that Elsa and Murray can't eat as much birdseed from everything that gets dumped. Without the dogs' interference, two squirrels had voluntarily caged themselves to clean up their own mess. I'm fairly certain we have the fattest squirrels in town, although until we get an extended cold snap, they're probably going to be chubby everywhere.
I'm a little flummoxed about what to do. The Olympics have started, and I have this big plan of ignoring all the bad news that I have on an IV drip every other day of my life. The last 40 days or so, the level of chaos in the news has cranked up to 11. I'm afraid to look away, as crazy bad as it has been. But I have to break free and clear my soul. I'll still be tense, watching skaters and willing them not to fall, watching ski jumpers and trying not to barf with my own fear of heights, and watching racers and holding my breath as the hundredths of seconds flash by. It will be worth it to think about something else. As I started to write, I settled in to watch last night's recording of the first skating competitions. So far, the men on the team skate are having rough goes. I don't know how much of a vacation from tension this will be. At least all of them are equally bad. What's that old phrase? They stink on ice. It will be better as they calm down.
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