DEEP FREEZE - Segment 3 (Scroll down for earlier segments)
I tried to explain to her, “People don’t want to hear how comfortable you are; they want to hear about your miserable, wretched life, as you struggle against the elements. They want to hear about rugged individualism; surviving a winter in an old farmhouse with barely enough heat to melt the frost on the sofa. So stomp out that fire you started on the carpet, and hand me my gloves so I can start writing. On second thought, I guess I need to go to the library to write.”
“Why can’t
you write here?” she insisted.
“Ink freezes at this temperature,” I answered.
When I returned home, Connie was busy filling out
papers. “What are those?” I asked.
“Adoption papers,” she
answered.
“I don’t think we can afford
more children,” I informed her.
“I’m not trying to adopt,”
she went on. “I’m putting US up for
adoption. Hopefully there is someone out
there who will take in a family of four, with one request; that we be placed
with a family that has heat in every room.
And it would be nice if I didn’t have to brush my teeth with
de-icer.”
“Look at the positive side,”
I said. “The cold has killed all the
bugs; the mice have gone south with the cat and the vultures have been grounded
because of ice buildup on their wings.
Besides, cold is a great preservative.
It prevents aging.”
“That’s because nothing is
moving. I’d rather see some moving
parts, preferably on a warm, sandy beach in Hawaii.”
“Welcome to the old farmhouse,” said Connie. Our warm woodstove acted like a magnet, pulling Butch and Ginger through the door and to its side. “Wow!” exclaimed Butch. “That’s the first time I’ve ever been pulled through a door by a woodstove. But, I must say, I’m extremely grateful. After reading about the farmhouse in Wake’s Christmas letter, I thought he was exaggerating about the cold. But now I think he was lying; it’s much colder.”
“Is it always this cold
inside?” Ginger asked.
“Only when it’s this cold
outside,” Connie answered.
To be continued
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