The Cold

As I’ve reported here before, I became acclimatized to Vietnam’s tropical temperatures during the thirteen years (1962 to 1975) I spent more time there than I did in the U.S. I’ve never readjusted. I still glory in hot weather and suffer during the cold.

So our current weather is a curse to me. As I write just at dawn, it is well below freezing outside. The gas stove in my office has been on for half an hour, and it is still only 68 degrees in here. I’m all bundled up in a snuggler (a heavy bathrobe with legs) and mukluks (heavy slipper socks) against the cold.

If I’m going to go on living in this part of the world (Columbia, Maryland, near Washington, D.C.), I’ll have to adapt to the weather someday. The results so far don’t look promising. I’ve spent the last 47 years trying without success. As I look from the back of my house northward, I see the pond a few feet from my deck. It’s frozen over. I see a tangle of tree and bush branches, limbs, and twigs gleaming white with frozen snow in the dawn’s early light. I consider getting a heavy jacket to wear over the snuggler.

The net result is that I’m unique. I’m the only person I know who actually looks forward to global warming.

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