The Warmth of Ice

I got up at six this morning, which is when I’m usually going to bed. Bro still doesn’t believe that we’re getting up this early, so there’s no morning snuggles. His water has been frozen for days, but I still try to pour it before I remember and go for the jug under the seat, wrapped in a blanket in front of the heater.

Rolling out of bed, and then out of the van, is a cold propisition. As soon as I’m out of bed I zip into my coats, and then I jump up and down until I can feel my blood moving. Then I lay down in the snow and smell it. I adore the smell of snow, tho I worry about the acid from the mine. The acid gets in the rain and the snow and all the dogs are getting foot cancer. So I think about this when I stick my tongue out to taste the perfect crystals and there is that slight aftertaste of acid.

It’s cold. Four above this morning. My onions are frozen solid. Every day it becomes more obvious that I am ill-prepared, though I guess that shouldn’t really be a suprise. I need to re-tape the reflectix over my windows. When I was in Arizona I undid the tape so the air could get in around the edges and the heat wouldn’t get in.

More than that, I need to store heat someplace where I can keep my laptop and some water from freezing. I think that means Laren’s water heat storage crate. There’s a crate here, but I’d have to drive two hours for plastic bottles. The bigger problem is that my heaters are in the front and I need the crate to be in the back. I definitely need to make some sort of tube, but I’m not sure how that’ll turn out. I should put the curtains back around my bed, too.

Cold or not, I love this place.

Today, at recess, a little girl came up and showed me an intricate network of ice she’d found frozen in some grass under the porch. It was half intricate frozen spiderweb and half crazily clumped ball. When she held it up her eyes shone with the clarity and passion of ice.

Tomorrow, I’m a substitute again.