That seems reasonable, right? I mean, yesterday morning, it was 19 degrees. When was the last time I had to deal with temps in the teens? I know to a lot of my friends who live further north, this is great weather. I have lived further north. I have had stretches of winter where I skied everyday in temps colder than 19 degrees. I keep thinking I have never been this cold.
That’s a lie I am telling myself, of course.
On Tuesday, I was so cold, I baked a cake. Totally from scratch. (Today I am thinking of that as a bit of a pantry clearing.) I was so cold, I figured baking something would add some radiant heat to the house and I would warm up. The cake was good, but I didn’t get warm.
On Wednesday, I had bacon (that was already cooked and ready in the fridge) and cake for breakfast. It was spectacular, but I still wasn’t warming up. The truth of the matter is that I had cake as the main corse for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The world has not stopped turning, but my hands are still like ice.
So today, I looked, and there is still some cake left. I just had a piece with some tea, and in between typing, I am holding the cup, so my hands are getting a hint of warm. But soon after releasing the cup, typing a sentence, once again, my fingers are fucking frozen.
This makes it hard to knit…to weave…to spin…to even hold a freaking book.
I truly have made and sold or given away countless pairs of fingerless mitts. As well, I have made many pairs for myself…but can I find any? Of course not. I am diving into my stash and casting on a pair right away. If I get lost in my stash, maybe, at the very least, I might warm up.
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