We are in the midst of typical winter weather where frost hangs on the trees with every bit of tenacity as it does on windows and windshields; where the sharp and inexplicable sound of a nail being 'pulled' in the middle of the cold dark night can jolt one awake with same burst of terror that one has when awakened by a door slamming or something falling to the floor *. You know something wakened you but you are quite sure what it was.
It is the type of cold that makes the butter hard in the cupboard, the cloths that one has wedged into the edges of the door freeze onto the jam, and the wood when placed on top of the glowing embers start to flame even before one finishes filling the stove.
It is the type of cold that harkens a cloud of frost filled air to follow anyone who returns from the outside become a fog bank of ice and frigidity whose chilly fingers scurry over the floor seeking warming solace in the feet, legs, and ultimately spine of any living being six feet from the door resulting in goose bumps and shivers to its host.
It is during this type of cold that one can only be thankful that wood and fibreglass are reasonable
insulation and that the discovery that air between two or three panes of glass can ward off both wind and freezing temperatures. It is truly a marvel indeed that within a space of about 6 inches the destiny of human life is allowed to survive and even thrive in sub zero temperatures.
It is one of these types of cold days that I chose to stop in for a midmorning coffee at a neighbour's unannounced .
It was one of those winter days where footsteps crunch, frosty breath lurks around one's head and quickly freezes the 'all hairs' of one's facial features.
It was one of these winter days that I left my vehicle, climbed noisily up the steps of the deck and I pushed the doorbell and heard the welcoming call of 'Come In the Door Is Open'.
It was one of these winter days that I opened the frost jammed door with a bit of a jerk and went inside and was immediately accompanied by a cloak of foggy ice crystals as the cold air met warmth.
It was one of these winter days that my glasses fogged up as I entered the house and as I took my mitts off to lift them off my nose I looked in at my hosts and saw evidence of the beneficial effect of fibreglass insulation and trapped air pockets between two panes of glass, although I was not immediately conscious of that scientific analysis right at that moment.
What did impress me at that very moment when I returned my defogged glasses to my face is something so image filled, so mind etching, so visually inerasable that it can and should only be expressed in rhyme .
Stopping for warmth on a cold winter's day
For a short little chat and a friendly Good Day
My mind became confounded and really confused.
And not because of the frost or the fog that ensued
I saw three great big men at the round table
And through my frosted specs able
To see they were naked from the chest up
Eating their cheerios and slurping from cups.
As I stood there in shock, I looked in dismay
I said a short prayer to quickly convey
My hope that I would not ever be able
While during that visit, see under that table.
* I refer to the sound of a dresser situated at the end of the bed in the middle of the night falling over because the drawers weren't properly closed. Apparently it was a traumatic experience for a new bridegroom so much so that it has been referred to at least 4 times a year for the past 30 years of marriage. The tirade usually starts out with..."just like the time you didn't close the drawer of that dresser....." So the unexpected and unexplained sounds in the middle of the night can bother a person for years to come...or so it seems.
It is the type of cold that makes the butter hard in the cupboard, the cloths that one has wedged into the edges of the door freeze onto the jam, and the wood when placed on top of the glowing embers start to flame even before one finishes filling the stove.
It is the type of cold that harkens a cloud of frost filled air to follow anyone who returns from the outside become a fog bank of ice and frigidity whose chilly fingers scurry over the floor seeking warming solace in the feet, legs, and ultimately spine of any living being six feet from the door resulting in goose bumps and shivers to its host.
It is during this type of cold that one can only be thankful that wood and fibreglass are reasonable
insulation and that the discovery that air between two or three panes of glass can ward off both wind and freezing temperatures. It is truly a marvel indeed that within a space of about 6 inches the destiny of human life is allowed to survive and even thrive in sub zero temperatures.
It is one of these types of cold days that I chose to stop in for a midmorning coffee at a neighbour's unannounced .
It was one of those winter days where footsteps crunch, frosty breath lurks around one's head and quickly freezes the 'all hairs' of one's facial features.
It was one of these winter days that I left my vehicle, climbed noisily up the steps of the deck and I pushed the doorbell and heard the welcoming call of 'Come In the Door Is Open'.
It was one of these winter days that I opened the frost jammed door with a bit of a jerk and went inside and was immediately accompanied by a cloak of foggy ice crystals as the cold air met warmth.
It was one of these winter days that my glasses fogged up as I entered the house and as I took my mitts off to lift them off my nose I looked in at my hosts and saw evidence of the beneficial effect of fibreglass insulation and trapped air pockets between two panes of glass, although I was not immediately conscious of that scientific analysis right at that moment.
What did impress me at that very moment when I returned my defogged glasses to my face is something so image filled, so mind etching, so visually inerasable that it can and should only be expressed in rhyme .
Bowing....I Hope Not to the Absurd
Stopping for warmth on a cold winter's day
For a short little chat and a friendly Good Day
My mind became confounded and really confused.
And not because of the frost or the fog that ensued
I saw three great big men at the round table
And through my frosted specs able
To see they were naked from the chest up
Eating their cheerios and slurping from cups.
As I stood there in shock, I looked in dismay
I said a short prayer to quickly convey
My hope that I would not ever be able
While during that visit, see under that table.
* I refer to the sound of a dresser situated at the end of the bed in the middle of the night falling over because the drawers weren't properly closed. Apparently it was a traumatic experience for a new bridegroom so much so that it has been referred to at least 4 times a year for the past 30 years of marriage. The tirade usually starts out with..."just like the time you didn't close the drawer of that dresser....." So the unexpected and unexplained sounds in the middle of the night can bother a person for years to come...or so it seems.
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