Last week’s cold snap has dissipated; it’s 51 degrees this morning, and 60 indoors. Due to PG&E’s rate hikes, we’ve resisted relighting the pilot and are bundling up each night with sweaters and space heaters. The kids were unmoved when we told them that we’re saving $200 a month on gas; the amount became meaningful when we said that was equivalent to buying an iPod nano every 30 days. Besides, by not turning on the furnace we’re not adding to the amount of carbon in the atmosphere, thereby reducing global warming. With kids I use whatever argument helps me get through the day and hope they don’t make the connection when, say, I want to fire up the barbecue next summer.
Visitors from back East tell us how lucky we are by not having to cope with sub-freezing temperatures. No, I don’t miss snow shovels, salt on the roads, and having to wear hats, gloves, and boots every morning, but snow’s white blanket does confer a calmness that is nearly sacramental, the world’s outward and visible sign of the inward and spiritual grace that is all too lacking in the hurly-burly of December.
The skating rink last Friday night.
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