Right now it's three degrees farenheit outside, they tell us, and it didn't get much above ten all day, so it was never what you'd call warm. But come on people, it isn't that bad. In fact, I kind of like it. I sure wouldn't have kept the children inside for recess; what harm could it have done them to go out for ten minutes or so, and see what it'd be like to live in Montana? But alas, more cautious folks than I are in charge.
The thing about this cold business is, if you have appropriate clothes on it doesn't really bother you. Sure, your cheeks might sting a bit, but with fleece-lined pants and a canvas coat over a fleece jacket over a sweater, why, it's just like sitting in front of your fire at home. Hats and mittens are good too. Warm socks. It's funny, though, to see how much the breeze can do at those temperatures. It was sunny, so when the air was still you'd swear it wasn't any colder than 25 or 30. When the air started to move, though, even the slightest bit, it was another story. It really goes to show you what they mean when they talk about windchill; it's kind of silly to be thinking about it at 25 degrees (when it's that warm humidity has much more of an effect on percieved temperature, I find), but around zero it starts to make more sense. And when you think about what it's like in Siberia, or down there in Antarctica... woohoo!
And why do I like it, you ask? Well, it clears the air up something wonderful, for one thing. The air just looks different when the temperature is below 15 or so. And then it's interesting to see everything turn gray, something else that really changes the look of things. And smoke and steam and factory exhaust look so much prettier in the cold, too. Some other things too. So from my warm house I'm sure pleased with the cold. I do pray that the people who usually sleep outside find somehere safe to spend the night, though, that's for sure.