Ah, memories of the sweet warm days of winter. The picture above was taken last week. LAST WEEK. When the temperatures were a balmy 37 degrees. When we only had 5 inches of snow on the ground. Those were good times, good times. Unless you’re a reader from the West Coast, or one of my many Singapore folks (Good Morning Singapore!), you already know what’s going on in the Midwest. The news stations are calling it the “Polar Vortex”. Isn’t that so fan-cee? Polar Vortex. It sounds like a water slide at Disney’s Blizzard Beach. But in all honesty, what name fits a foot of snow, followed by -20 degree days, followed by 30 mph winds, followed by windchills of -40? Hell freezing over and landing smack in the Hoosier land, that’s what you call it.
Of course, we can’t feel this kind of cold. If we try, we will die in our driveways. Or be arrested, because it’s currently illegal to be out on the roadways. Agreed…there is no name for a winter so cold our entire state is under lock down. No one is bitching and moaning about freedom and American rights, because you’d have to be crazy to go past your mailbox. No need to check that either…there is no mail. Or newspaper delivery. Or bus service. I’ve been a Hoosier my entire life, and I’ve never seen weather that stopped my mailman. If there is 2 feet of snow on my street, she’ll call out my name and toss it at me. I mean come on guys…it’s the mail.
Luckily, Greg is stuck at home with me, so although I’ve been cooking and cleaning for 18 straight days of Christmas break, I haven’t lost my sanity yet. Or at least when I do, Greg must be quietly drugging me and putting me to bed. After 18 days, the days and nights have started to lose meaning, along with showers and wardrobe. The 4 of us look like homeless people who don’t own brushes or soap, buried under layers of over-size pajamas and sweat pants. We occasionally bump into each other in the hallways at 3 am, wondering if we’re half-awake or half-asleep. Or did we ever fall asleep? Or have we been asleep all along, and this is just a weird “Through The Looking Glass” kind of dream? The girls calculated we’ve left the house only 7 times in the last 19 days. At some point, I think we officially meet the definition of shut-ins?
Let’s look at the bright side (it’s warmer there): this kind of weather has caused the entire Midwest to spend time in our kitchens. If you can’t get the mail, you certainly can’t order take-out. I’ve spent so much time cooking and washing dishes, that it’s fair to say I’ve done little else. In honor of my dedication to the culinary arts this winter, I wrote a piece for Indy’s Child Magazine regarding the creative use leftovers. The practice of utilizing leftovers has actually been a focus of study for me this year, if only because I’m tired of going to the grocery store. I hope you find this piece useful:
A cousin in California offered to mail me some warm sunshine, but you know…there’s no….I can’t even say it. Just send prayers for a thaw, and for these girls to eventually get back to school. They’ve been so very good this break. I’d hate to see them…you know…break. Or at the very least, maybe we could get out of the house and go see “Frozen” again. That movie is just so warm and cozy and full of…warmth. If you think I’m joking, hop on a plane and check out the temperature in Indiana. No…wait. You can’t. Planes can’t fly…well…you know where. Godspeed, my friends. And Bon Appetit!