Colder than a witch's.....

I can't finish that sentence unless I want to offend some of my readers. My stepdad used to say that all the time - and we only lived in California, where "cold" means you've had to put on a sweatshirt over your t-shirt and you might have had to trade in your flip-flops for sneakers. I've been mentioning that it was supposed to get cold here. Well, it did.

It began to cool off last night. As luck would have it, my car was on empty. Try as I might to talk myself into waiting until the next morning to gas up, the sensible person inside me realized there was a very good possibility I would run out of gas before I made it to the gas station the next morning. That person also reminded me that it was supposed to be even colder the next morning than it was last night. Reluctantly, I pulled into the gas station. The thermometer on my dash read 18 degrees Fahrenheit. (That's -7 for you "foreigners".)

As I opened my car door, the north wind lashed at me, whipping my hair into my face and instantly freezing the tip of my nose. The last thing I wanted to do was step out into this arctic blast, but the gas was not going to get into the tank on its own. How I miss the days of full service gas stations! You could opt to sit in your nice, warm, dry automobile while an energetic young attendant rushed to assist you, pumping your gas, checking your oil and fluid levels, and even putting air in the tires. Those were the days! As frugal as I can be, it would have been worth the extra cents per gallon the full service stations charged not to have had to get out of my car last night. Alas, full service stations have gone the way of rotary telephones, clerks who can make change without the cash register telling them how much to give you, and leaded fuel cars.

I pulled on my gloves, buttoned my coat, clenched my teeth, and slid out of the car (did I tell you my seats are heated and they were very toasty and warm?) The wind was brutal. It was howling at about 20 mph, making it feel more like, according to the national weather service's windchill chart, -2F/-18C. Frostbite was imminent. I chattered to the gas pump, my coat whipping about me as if trying to tear from my body and get back into the warm car. I didn't have a hat. I could imagine all my body heat escaping through the top of my head, like steam rising from a freshly baked bun, leaving me to die of hypothermia. I fumbled with my credit card, trying to figure out which direction it had to be facing in order to work the gas pump - my confusion a sure sign of hypothermia. I finally managed to slide it in and out of the slot quickly, as required, and waited for what must be the slowest dialup connection in Bonner County to connect and authorize my purchase. Finally, I pulled the nozzle from its holder, flipped the lever to start the flow of gas, squeezed the trigger on the nozzle, and watched as the dollars ticked off on the readout.

Something was wrong with the pump. At $2.29 a gallon, the dollars usually go by in a blur. I could almost match the passing of the cents with the second hand on my watch. At this rate, it would take almost 4 minutes just to put one gallon of gas in my car and I'd be a Gina popsicle. Sometimes the pumps get vapor lock - or so I've been told - and you have to stop the pumping, wait a few seconds, then restart it, sort of like rebooting your computer. I tried that - no change. I started trying to bargain with my sensible self. How about if I put in just two gallons? That will get me to work and back for a few days at least! The sensible me reminded me that it is not wise to leave the gas tank nearly empty in such cold temperatures - something about condensation and freezing gas lines (I could hear my husband's admonishments ringing in my ears). Well, then, how about $10 worth? The sensible me would have none of it. By this time, my hand was frozen to the pump handle anyway, so I may as well keep pumping until I could pry it free. Finally, the pump read $20 - that was nearly 10 gallons, which is almost a full tank, given that it holds 14.7 gallons. Even the sensible me agreed that was a sufficient quantity of fuel (I think she was frozen into acquiescence). I managed to release my grip on the pump trigger, remove it from my gas tank, and replace it in it holder in record time, despite being frozen as stiff as the wooly mammoth. I replaced the gas cap, closed the flap, and raced to get back inside the car. The heated leather seats went to work immediately, thawing my frozen backside in record time. Of course, I had them cranked all the way to 6 - the highest setting and higher than I'd ever had them set. Too bad I didn't have a heated nose warmer. The tip of my nose was numb and cold as ice to the touch. But I had 3/4 of a tank of gas!

Last night was just a preview. The wind howled all night, keeping me awake for most of it. It battered my house, making the shingles groan and slap and the walls creak. It's amazing to me how much noise a solid wall makes when the wind blows against it, moving it only millimeters, but sounding as if it has been shifted from its foundation. I felt like the little pig in the house made of sticks. I figured one or two more "huffs and puffs" and the walls would be crashing down on me by the sound of things. The pressure of the wind against my bedroom wall, which is on the north side of the house, pushes all the warm air right out of my bedroom, down the hall, and into the laundry room, the room on the south side of the house. I am thinking of moving our bed there. To counteract this heat loss, we have installed a small ceramic heater in our room. It is set to go on when the temperature in our room drops below 65 degrees. It was on all night long. I like to sleep in a cool room, but last night was ridiculous. I was sure I'd be breaking icycles off my lashes when I woke up in the morning. When the alarm went off at 4:30 a.m., I checked the outside temperature. 2 degrees, wind blowing like a someone blowing out birthday candles. A quick look at the windchill chart showed me that it now felt like -21F outside (-30C), and that frostbite would occur in 30 minutes. Since I had no plans whatsoever for being outside for anywhere near even 3 minutes, I knew I was not in danger. By the time I left for work, it had warmed up to 4 degrees, but the wind had not subsided at all. My car says it's warmed all the way up to 18 now. It is supposed to be even colder tonight, but not as windy, and then quite pleasant tomorrow - a balmy 30 degrees is predicted. Get out your sunscreen and beach towels! The wind and cold work together to suck every ounce of moisture from every living thing, too. Dry, cold, and windy equals a lot of static electricity. I keep shocking myself just walking up and down the stairs and holding the handrail. My nasal passages are as dry as the Sahara Desert and my lips look as though I've been lost in Death Valley without water. But hey, it's sunny!