Xmas 2012: The Themomatuh Plummerted

Between the time I walked into the macket faw the third time today, this time to buy the pecans for the bourbon balls, and the time I walked out the bottle staw next daw, where you have to go to buy bee-ah in Rhode Island, the tempratcha dropped another ten degrees. Also, the wind picked up. It was cold this morning at the fahmuz macket, heavy on root vegetables and local chowduh, but it wawmed up encouragingly while we were in Seven Stars Bakery, wolfing down cherry/pistachio biscottis and almond croissants. Then, afta we dropped BZ at huh lab faw a few howuhz, the themomatuh plummerted. Cold, cold!

And den there were no pecans at BZ's house. TGD cannot make Kentucky bourbon balls without pecans, but with only one headlight functionin propahly until she goes back into the shop in January, guess who had to drive to get them?

True, dey had wine tastin ovuh at da bottle shop, so perhaps there was a bit of dawdlin involved. The guy pourin the wine was trying hard to be cosmopolertan, but dat RI accent just does you in every time.

"Dese wines takes a lotter labuh. You can't fit no machines in dah-buh."

You've got to love Providese. If a word has an r, you drop it, like in 'arbor.' Ah-buh, and the 'ah' is the 'a' sound in 'bat.' If a word has one r but two syllables, you put the r where it shouldn't be and take it away where it should, like in 'water' -- "war-da."

Anyway, by the time I walked out of the bottle staw it was bittuh. Cold as a witch's tit.

Why did I say that? My friend Minko used to say 'cold as a witch's tit' all the time when we were teenagers, living in Encino, where 'cold' meant the low 70s.

So how cold IS a witch's tit? If she is in Providence every part of her is as cold as my miserable ears are right now.

I've become my brother. He used to come to New York, when we lived there, and he'd stand on the corner hugging his jacket against himself, face red and nose running, crying out "How can you two stand living here?"

We laughed. Now, 35 years of depleted warm blood cells later, I get it. Ho farking ho.The wind hurts. If I hadn't survived once, for seven years, in the cold cold East, and actually come to enjoy parts of it, like October and April, I'd wonder why anybody stays out here at all.

And forget Providence, how about Chicago? St. Paul?

All this after the last ten years of Global Slow Incineration in Stiletto City, trying to survive 48 hours in a house where it is 120 degrees in the den, they can sun-dry raisins on the living room carpet and the local inhabitant can't stop asking "Are you cold, Honey? Why don't you put on a jacket? Shall we turn up the heat? Do you need an extra blanket?"

Right now: sounds good.

If we get some clouds ternight, it might snow. Wowzuh.