A Little Taste of What's Coming!

By my own admission, I am a nerd. A geek. Jen calls me Inspector Gadget, because I like anything "tekkie", anything one would consider a gadget.  Back in Florida, I had a very nice little weather station which gave me wind speed and direction, barometric pressure, rainfall, and forecast data.  I could  predict the weather better than the TV weatherman. Gotta love it!

Well, I left it behind when we moved, and I kinda miss it here in PA.  So when we had to replace our old bedroom alarm clock, I did the only natural thing I could do...I bought a very nice clock with dual alarms, an indoor/outdoor thermometer, and a projector that shows the time/temp on my bedroom ceiling!  Told ya, I love gadgets!  Now I can wake up in the middle of the night, look right up at the ceiling, and tell what time it is, and what the temperature is outside our bedroom window.

Which is what I did this morning when Sasha decided that it was time to do her business, around 7:30 AM.  I opened my eyes, and glanced at the digital read-out above my pillow.  Uh, is that right?  It says 34ºF!  I vaguely remember it being around 45º when we went to bed.  But 34º?  Okay, let's do the math here - 7:30 AM + 34ºF + dog needs to go outside + Gary dressed in flannel bottoms = Are you out of your flippin' MIND???

I have to get the cobwebs out of the skull here.  Where are my flannel cargo pants?  Where is my heavy sweat-shirt with the hoodie?  Where are my slippers?  Where is the dog?  34º!!!  I'm busy getting everything together and Sasha is waiting at the bedroom door, her little doggie legs crossed, and in her mind I can imagine the plea: "Would you please get your act together before I leave you a substantial present on the carpet?"   I am hurrying, Sasha.  But it's dark in here, and I don't want to turn on the lights and wake Momma.

I finally manage to get dressed in what I think will be sufficient enough clothing to get the job done quickly and get back to bed.  I open the bedroom door, and Sasha is out and half-way down the stairs before I can think.  I guess she really has to go!  Well, so do I, and so I make a stop in our bathroom for some quick relief myself, and then down the stairs I go.  Sasha is standing there looking up at me as if to say, "Would you please...?"  Well, we're almost there.  I go to the front door and grab her leash, and a poopie bag.  I hook her up, and we head to the back door.  This will not be a full-fledged walk...it will be a quick foray into the back yard to relieve the poor pup, and then right back inside.

I pull the hoodie over my head, and tighten the strings.  And I open the door leading from the kitchen to our laundry room.  The arctic blast hits me in the face, and we aren't even outside yet!  It's like a freezer in here, and the last thing I want to do is open the door and go...OUTSIDE!!  But I have to man-up and do this, and I take a deep breath, unlock the deadbolt, and open the door.

Thank goodness that there is no breeze blowing, because it is cold out here!  My face and hands are bare, and the cold makes itself known immediately!  And evidently, Sasha feels it, too!  She usually takes her time, sniffing here and there, smelling the rabbits and the chipmunks, but not this morning!  She hesitates to leave the rear deck, then hurries down the stairs, right into the grass and squats.  This ain't gonna take long at all!  A few more steps, a little pee, and then Sasha wants nothing more than to get her furry butt back inside.  She drags me back up the stairs, through the door, and into the kitchen.

Now, usually at this stage of the action, she will whine and moan until I give her a doggie snack, but not today.  She's ready to go back upstairs to our nice warm bedroom.  But while outside, I noticed that the garbage truck has come by, and now I have to go back outside and retrieve our garbage can.  Oh, great!  So off I go again, down to the back curb, where I fetch the cans (I usually bring our neighbor's can back, too) and hurry back inside.  Our can has frost all over the lid, and the grass I have to walk on is also stiff and frozen!  Did I say it was COLD outside?

Now Sasha is waiting for me to let her out of the kitchen, and when I do, she heads right up the stairs.  She is almost 14 years old and usually takes her time going up, but this morning she's like a puppy.  By the time I get upstairs, she's waiting at the bedroom door - "Will you please let me get back into my bed??"  Well, Sasha, you and I want the same thing, so chill out - oops! Wrong choice of words!  Sasha doesn't need any encouragement - she's all curled up and half asleep before I can get back to bed myself.

Now, this is the first real cold spell I have experienced since we moved.  By all local figures, this ain't really cold at all!  And to be honest, it got this cold a few times in Florida.  But this is a precursor - Jen (half) jokingly tells me, "See the "34º" on the clock, honey? Well, wait till you wake up one morning, and the "3" isn't there!"  It does get down to single digits up here occasionally, and even if it doesn't,  I know I will see temps in the teens before winter is gone.  I'm not even going to imagine sub-zero figures!  And this morning is just a small taste of what will come, and I am cold!  So cold that I am pondering how to erect a small fence around our back yard, so that I can let the dogs out while staying inside myself. Yes, I can be a heartless SOB!  And the colder it gets...

What's Wrong with That Boy?

Fall is here in resplendent colors and cooler temperatures. The mountain behind my house, Blue Mountain, is full of those oranges, reds, browns and yellows.  It is everything I was told it would be, and more!  And now I'm watching the weather on a daily basis to see when the temps are going to get even colder, and even asking everyone when it might snow for the first time.

And you wouldn't believe the stares and astonishment I receive from most of those I talk to.  "You actually want it to get colder?"  Or, "Are you crazy?  You really wnat it to snow?"  And, "You'll be sorry about ever asking those questions when winter does get here!"  So, in the interest of setting the record straight, let me try to explain:

I was born in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida in 1946.  And I lived there for nearly all of my life (aside from a few months collectively in Colorado and New York).  That is 66 years of sunshine, my friends!  I actually watched it snow one January in downtown Ft. Lauderdale - a few flakes that melted almost as soon as they touched anything, but snow nonetheless.  Oh, I've been in Greeley, Colorado in the winter, for a little over a month, and I saw some snow out there.  I also saw some snow in NYC the two months I worked up there.

But the reality of the situation is that I have never lived in a northern climate.  Visited, yes.  Lived, no.  And so, here I am, in Palmerton, PA.  Snuggled against the mountains, with a ski resort a few miles away.  There are signs telling me that I cannot park on my side of the street on every 2nd Thursday of the month, so that the snow plow can come and clear my street.  And here it is, the middle of October, and lows for the next two weeks are in the mid- to low 30's.

I digress - I am positioning myself as a nut-job here because I am actually looking forward to this winter.  I want to know what it's like when the temperature outside drops down to 10ºF!  I want to know what it's like to sit in my living room and watch the snow fall outside.  I want to know what Blue Mountain looks like with a white blanket.  And I am hoping, supposedly against hope, that we will have a white Christmas this year.  I'm told that it rarely happens here.

Yes, I'm from Florida, and yes, I want to experience a real winter!  And yes, there is a good chance that, come spring, I will rue the day I ever asked for winter.  When the ice on the sidewalk takes me down, I may curse winter.  When I cannot get dressed warm enough, I may hate winter.  When the snow turns to slush and the salt on the streets turns to black mud, and I have to drive through it all, I may despise winter.

But, you know, I have never had any of these experiences, so I will just have to go through this first winter in Pennsylvania and find out for myself.  I will definitely do a reprise of this post in April or May, and maybe then my tone will change. But I have one thing to say about winter - I have spent the last 66 years in Florida, and I have personally been through a whole lot of hurricanes.  Wiki Andrew if you want to see the last real nasty blow I was in.  Charlie and Francis messed with my daughter's Florida wedding, and destroyed Captiva Island.  So, Pennsylvania, bring it on!  Give me your best shot!  Let winter begin.  I've got my heavy jacket, I've got my thermal underwear, I've got gloves.  I've got my stocking cap.

And lastly, I've got retirement - my secret weapon.  If winter gets too harsh, I have an answer: I'm just not going outside!  We'll stock up the pantry, and make sure the broadband connection is working, and I'll just stay put until March!

Fall, Y'All?

We arrived up here in Palmerton on July 7th, in the middle of the summer, and it was warm. Very warm.  The running joke was, "Did you bring the Florida heat with you when you came up here?"  Wasn't much different - days in the upper 80's and low 90's, with nights not much cooler.

But one of the things that my lovely wife Jen had told me for as long as I can remember was that Fall in PA was a very wonderful season, with the changing colors in the leaves, and the cooler days and nights. And I kept wondering just when that was supposed to start.

Well, it has! Blue Mountain, that little "hill" in our back yard has started morphing into shades of yellow, orange and brown. And it seems like I have trouble finding the sidewalks sometimes, as the trees on our street are busy defoliating at a very rapid pace.

Our house is the one with the American flag out front. Which really is an understatement because a lot of houses on my street have Old Glory waving 24/7.  Anyway, along with the color changes have come much milder temps.  Most of our nights here are in the low to mid-40's, and the days rarely climb above 75ºF.  We take the dogs for their first walk of the day just after climbing out of bed, which translates to around 7:30 - 8:00 AM.  And I don't leave the front door without flannel pants and a sweat-shirt. Yes, I'm a Florida wuss! 

Right now, the change in colors has just started, yet there is still a lot of green around.  It looks like the full-blown Fall pictorial is still a few weeks away.  And so I am getting myself prepared for what lies ahead.  Jen has purchased a full set of thermal underwear for me.  I have obtained several more sweatshirts with hoods. (I promise I will not wear them anywhere near Sanford, FL!)  I now have a nice stocking cap and a pair of warm gloves.  And in keeping with my sports-minded sons-in-law, I have one very nice (and well-lined) kick-butt Philadelphia Eagles jacket.  (I know, I know - they're not doing all that great this year! But you have to be faithful to the home team!)

And I don't know why, but the one warning that keeps ringing in my ears is "Just wait till it gets down to 10º!"  Now, I don't know why 10º seems to be some magical number, but even this Florida boy knows that 10º is cold!  And I have a hard enough time relating to that figure, and even thinking about going outside.  But what I am really wondering is, what about the dogs?  Sasha, our Dalmatian, is usually pretty prompt at doing her thing.  Out the door, into the grass in front, squat and pee.  A few more yards and the other chore gets done.  Sandy, our Papillon  on the other hand, is a prima-donna when it comes to the relief business - a quick squat just outside the door and then a casual stroll around the neighborhood, nose working diligently while we cover several blocks.  And then, when she decides to finish the job, she takes about 10 minutes to find just the right spot, circling it over and over until she has the site properly prepared.  Only then can she leave her deposit.

Now all this is well and good when the temp outside is 55º+.  But when there is snow on the ground, and it's 20º below the freezing level, just how are our Florida-raised pups going to react?  Forget that - how on God's green earth am I going to react??  I close my eyes and my mind begins to drift: I awaken from a very nice warm sleep, and slowly drag my carcass out from under my blankets, where my wonderful heated mattress pad has kept my core temperature at that 98.6º optimal level.  I look at my indoor/outdoor thermometer, and...WHOA! - it says 14ºF!  Math question: how long does it take the average male to go from pajamas and slippers to a parka, mukluks, and balaclava at 7:30 AM?  And the dogs?  I know they have a built-in fur coat, but, fer cryin' out loud, it's sub-freezing out there.  What about the little pads on their feet?  What if they try to sniff their favorite hydrant and their little nose sticks to the surface?  What happens when one of them squats to pee, and she freezes to the sidewalk?

You can tell I'm a Southern boy, because no one else would stop to consider these things.  I do not want to leave the premises when it's that cold outside, let alone take two mutts along for the tortu...er...walk.  I've been thinking - we have a very strong clothesline in our miniscule back yard.  Getting the idea yet?  I'll rig up a short leash, lest the beasts stray into the neighbor's "no dog" zone, and then all I need to do is wrap myself in several layers, run said pooch out the back door and attach same to clothesline, then retreat to the warmth of my igloo.  Wait about 3-5 minutes and then dash out and retrieve one slightly frozen canine.  Repeat for dog #2, and hope that pneumonia doesn't set in.  Ain't I ingenious?

BTW, the cats have it made in the shade.  Their en suite is in my den, and they have two very nice kitty boxes to use, complete with man-servant.  Twice a day, I clean the litter boxes, give them fresh water and food, and clean off the doormat.  If you ever wonder why cats are so snooty, it's because us humans spoil them rotten.  I know where I will find them on these Arctic days - laying next to or very near the home heating system.  Or sleeping in either my lap or Jen's.

And so I am preparing for my very first real winter.  Fall has begun, the leaves are falling, and the weather is growing cooler.  I am really enjoying it so far, but everyone seems to be trying to burst my optimism balloon.  This morning my mountain was covered in clouds, it was about 47º outside, and I was walking the doggies in flannel pants and a sweatshirt.  And I was thinking about how much colder it was going to get.  But I'm sorry - I simply cannot imagine, in my mind's eye, walking out the door into 10º.  I can't!  And when I try to add the dogs, it gets even more ridiculous.  I need help.  Is there anyone out there who can give me proper instructions on how to walk the dogs when it's literally freezing out there?