After a quiet weekend with absolutely no commitments, a rare occurrence, I can’t think of a subject worth blog space for today’s post.
If Hiram had worked on the bathroom remodeling, a progress report would have been in order. But he worked on taxes, and who wants a progress report on taxes? If football was a big deal at this house, it would have been a hot topic. But all I know is that the Packers beat the Bears and the Steelers beat some other team, and who wants a football analysis from a football ignoramus? If anybody around here was sick, this post could have monitored vital signs. But we’re healthy, and who wants to know the color of our mucus anyway?
Which leaves the weather, which continues cold and snowy, as the default topic of conversation. In this part of the country, it’s been darn cold, in the single digits above or below zero for a couple weeks. However, our Minnesota son phoned to report their weekly low, a frigid 30 below. Suddenly Sunday morning’s nasty sounding minus 7 appeared positively balmy.
We were cold last week, but not that cold.
Our phone conversation moved on to a discussion of the lowest temperatures we’d experienced – weather Limbo, so to speak, seeing how low we could go. Surprisingly, the 50 below Alaskan temperature Hiram recalled was not much colder than the 45 below we endured in Harding County, South Dakota during the winter of 1982.
Now that was one cold weekend.
I was pregnant with Allen that winter, and we were going a little stir crazy in our small house. So when good friends called and asked if we wanted to go to Spearfish and eat out, we said yes without batting an eye. Our friend drove 115 miles one way – prudently taking the longer paved road rather than risk the gravel trail which would have cut the trip to 90 miles – to The Sluice, our favorite Black Hills restaurant. We chatted the whole way down, all through supper, and the entire trip back, not one bit concerned about potential engine issues, flat tires, or freezing to death by the side of the road.
The story is proof of the old adage, “With age comes wisdom.” We wouldn’t think of doing such a thing now-a-days, even with a cell phone for emergencies and no unborn baby along for the ride. Such behavior is risky and stupid. Even on days like this one, when the blog post topic makes me wonder if my acquisition of wisdom has kept pace with my age, one thing’s for certain.
We may still be stupid on occasion, but we’re not that stupid.
