The weather turns. From a high of 12 above on Thursday through to Friday, snow blowing in and the temperature plummets - minus 4, minus 8, minus 12 and then 16, 18, 20. The roads blow over with snow and the house becomes a hibernaculum. I've made a couple of trips out for supplies - Jack Daniels, some sausages and perogies, the job starts this week and I'm almost - in a perverse way - looking forward to starting. Almost. Getting out of the house and interacting with people-not-cats and catching up on gossip...it will pass in about a week I figure.
In any event with the smallest of economic worries now out of the way I can turn my thoughts to other things. The house again is due for a cleaning - the cats have shed on every square inch of carpet. And there's laundry and dusting and a hundred other trivial chores to fill the time - there's the thought of going out and doing some thrift shopping, checking the re-store for tile & hardwood, now that economy is less of a worry, but the weather forbids.
Just Thursday, the early spring, there was a moth outside banging on the window. Deceived, it would appear, by the early onset of spring (as was I). And checking the forecast it will again, by the end of next week, be warm, but for now it's freezing. So this weekend it's clean, laundry, read up on Sir Francis Drake (who's inspirational) and hold tight for warmer weather.