Have I always liked cold climates this much? I've been mulling that over for a couple of hours now. I can recall being miserable in heat pretty much all of my life, but I can't come up with a time that cold disturbed me, more than needing an extra blanket or warm body to snuggle with. I know I used to complain that the house in Oklahoma was a drafty old barn, but other than enjoying the thrill of standing over a floor furnace while wearing a nightgown or bathrobe a little more than was socially acceptable, I don't remember being upset that it was hard to keep warm. Flash forward to now, as I have spent a good deal of the day quietly watching it snow, and I find myself getting more excited about a nicely cold, snowy winter than someone like me should be. It's odd that a chick with fibromyalgia and joint issues should prefer bitter cold, isn't it? I even keep my thermostat at 68, and periodically check it to make sure someone hasn't bumped it up when that feels warm to me. No lie, I keep thinking I should crack open a window in the bedroom at night, and yes, it is supposed to get into the single digits tonight.
I spent some time watching the babies over at their house this afternoon. Val was napping when I arrived, so I got quality time with Dmitri for an hour and a half. He was super charming and chatty for the first hour, and then he flipped like a switch to pure rage. I tried every position I could think of to make him comfortable. I patted. I bounced. I rubbed his back. I tried to feed him. Finally, I felt like a bad grandma and set him in the swing. Within a minute, he was out cold. Lesson learned, try that sooner. He only had a twenty minute nap before Val was tromping around with toddler exuberance, waking him back up. We tried to give her a second dose of Christmas movies (moving on to Rudolph this time), but while we were glued to it, she had too much important playing to do. When it was time for me to leave, she wanted to escort me to the car, even though she was wearing neither pants nor shoes. Her mommy wrapped her in a light blanket and carried her out to say goodbye to me in the snow. That is a kid after my own cold heart.
There is gloom and doom over on Twitter tonight. Most of the folks I follow are convinced that it won't last the weekend. I went and logged in to my long-dormant Instagram account, that I hadn't opened in at least two years. I was amazed I still knew the password. I spent over an hour flipping back and forth between the two apps, searching for some of my favorite accounts to also follow on IG. If Twitter dies suddenly, it will be like breaking up a family for me and lots of folks like me. I'm trying to minimize the losses. I haven't made a new post yet because I was so busy finding and following others. But I guess I will start coming up with content over there. I'll be easy to find at scenesfromsmithpark. Not sure whether I'll be posting blog links there. Maybe?
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