
I’ve just run around the house making all my faucets drippy to save the pipes. Forget global warming, folks, there’s a serious rend in the fabric of the earth’s karma going on here. Single digits and temperatures that start with a minus sign in Arkansas? This is the land of bubbling-tar streets and heatstroke. It’s meteorological terrorism.
Worse yet, I can’t find my coat. Honestly, I only wear one a week or so out of every year, and it’s always an all-weather, trenchy-thing at that. I’ve located the liner – those are always zipped out and discarded anyway – right where I left it in the hall coat-closet. In my house, that’s a little room where we hang graduation regalia and old prom dresses. I may have to go out in the world tomorrow morning wearing all my sweaters at once and looking like the homeless fellow who hangs out in front of the shoe repair store on VanRonkle Street.*
All this weather ridiculousness would be forgiven if it would simply snow. At least I’d have good reason to stay indoors and have no need of a missing trench coat. The smattering of surprise snow we had the other day lasted about half an hour. Now it’s colder than Anchorage, Alaska around here and there’s nary a residual flake.
I’ll make another trip around the house checking drips and closets and such before calling it a night. Wish me luck, and pray for snow.
* Don’t worry about our friend on VanRonkle. I have it on good authority that he’s enjoying the warm comforts of several Christian homes during this weather. We take care of our own down here.
