the thin line between optimism and delusion…

It is cold here in Charleston, South Carolina.  Not that it really mattered to me today because I was inside the whole day, but it sure looked cold out of my window.

As I was getting onto the interstate on my way home from work today, I saw blue flashing lights ahead and realized two seconds too late that getting on the interstate was not a good idea.  I stopped.  Considered my options.  And realized I had to continue onto the ramp of stand still traffic.  Ugh.  I knew the fluffy puff was waiting patiently at home to go outside, and I hoped she was sleeping.

When I finally made it 1/4 of a mile after 20 minutes and saw the wreck, I was instantly glad I stayed an extra 15 minutes at work.  It was for real.   There was a mercedes that had taken quite a beating but the driver and passenger area looked totally intact, which made me feel safe in the silver bullet.  She now has 199,500 miles, give or take a few.  The silver bullet is getting her 200k badge for Christmas this year!

Briscoe was extremely pumped to see me when I got home.  I felt guilty that she hadn’t gotten to do anything fun this weekend besides snuggle with Uncle Matt and lick and sniff all over Aunt Jennifer, so I decided to take her on a walk to look at some Christmas lights.

I knew it was cold, but figured I’d be okay in my layers and gloves and headband.  I should have taken into account the 20-30 mile wind, but I was so happy to be outside, and Briscoe was so happy to be outside, we ignored the cold.  I quickly paid dearly for this poor decision-making.

Briscoe was in high spirits, and her little dog breath made puffs of smoke as she jangled down the sidewalk, stopping to sniff and forage.  At one point she was chewing on something and I had to stop and manhandle her until she spit out a chicken bone.  My precious knitted gloves were no match for the 30 mph arctic blasts.

By the time we made it home, my hands were numb and Briscoe’s smoke puffs had become a constant cloud.  We were both very happy to get inside our warm apartment.  My hands were so cold I couldn’t get Briscoe’s collar off.

After a scalding hot shower, flannel pajamas and a bowl of hot chili, I’m starting to warm up.  Briscoe is asleep next to me on the couch and she’s a great little heater herself.

I hope you are all as cozy as I am tonight!