Looking back on my seven winters in the Undisclosed Location, I realize I probably should have kept better records. It always seems to me that the last part of December is the coldest part of any winter. Actually that probably isn’t so, but only appears so because it’s the darkest. And maybe because it always brings the first real cold snap.
Two winters ago, the worst on record during my time here, we had a New Year’s Eve cold snap that hit something like 21 below. But that same winter there was a week in February that drove me right out of the Interim Lair for fear of death by hypothermia. So the “late December’s the worst” impression is certainly spurious. Given that we’re almost done with December that’s not really good news.
In this sense, selective memory is not my friend. Yesterday morning I came downstairs to 28o indoor temps. The dogs’ water had frozen. I felt miserable. Yet in the Interim Lair, where I spent five winters, frozen water was so routine as not to be worth mentioning. I would commonly go a week without ever taking off my heavy coat. By any rational standard, the (permanent) Secret Lair is far superior to that 35-year-old RV. If I can ever afford to side the poor thing and insulate the floor, it’ll be better yet.
Therefore I should just quit my bitching.
What would you say are the chances of that?