Let’s see, it’s about eight in the morning, the sun is out, and it’s a toasty minus nine degrees actual, with wind chills up to thirty below. Guess I’ll continue to hang out at my friend’s house for another day or two. (Or longer, if my pipes are busted.) Tomorrow we’re supposed to hit a high of 13, which I hope is enough to get my car started, although who knows? If not, after my friend returns tomorrow night, I’m sure I can continue to bum a room, but won’t have their car to loan anymore.
The warm-up still looks to be next week, for what that entended outlook is worth. So I don’t expect my pipes to unfreeze anytime soon, even if they did manage to survive freezing intact.
It really makes you think about how hard people had it just a few decades ago, much less in the decades and centuries before this.
Again, though, thank goodness this happened the week after B-Fest, rather than the weekend of.
