I hate the cold. I mean it. If cold weather had a face, I would never stop punching it. It’s been varying shades of -20 to -30 Celsius here, with the wind chill, though it finally broke this week. There have to be blogs where people just complain about the weather. This isn’t really about the weather. The freezing isn’t such a big deal, I don’t spend that much time outside. Just to the bus stop, into the office, and back to my home, really. And that’s sort of the problem with the cold. It makes me into a hermit.
I’m a pedestrian. I get places on my feet or on the bus, but mostly the former. There’s a certain cost/benefit analysis you do when walking places. Distance, speed, how tired you are, return trip, and weather are some of the factors. Whether or not I have someone to walk with is also a consideration. But the cold, that biting cold that gets into your bones, it has me battening hatches and hiding under every blanket I own. It skews my analysis to the point where it keeps me inside the house every night (which is admittedly resulting in more writing, but also drives me slowly wonky). There are events three blocks away where I go, “You know, but it’s three blocks…” Because the thought of the cold has taken up residence in my mind, inflating the challenge of moving through the snow and resisting the wind while straining to think about anything but the growing numbness in my ears.
That said, the cold has broken, and hopefully won’t return until next winter when I’ll complain about it all over again (or have mastered teleportation, and hopefully be in a position to translocate myself wherever I need to be). Of course, I’ve also committed to leaping into cold water for charity in three weeks, so we’ll see how that goes. I’m excited and confident in my fortitude, but also not entirely looking forward to it. There will, of course, be video.
Because there’s always video.
The most important part of my week was doubtlessly Pubnight. Pubnight was started about eight years ago by my friend Chris, who noticed that between work and university, now that we didn’t roleplay together regularly, we were starting to drift apart. He resolved to go to the Rum Runner pub on the first Saturday of every month and drink. If we joined him, we would drink together. If not, he would drink alone. For eight years, with a few blank spots, we’ve been gathering at the Rum Runner once a month. People come and people go, but one thing is sort of clear. Pubnight is for family. We recount old stories, make new ones, and keep in touch though some of us have moved out of town. the first time I held my youngest niece, Alice, was at Pubnight. The grls still join us regularly because Rum Runner is that kind of space. But last night we said goodbye. At the end of February the bar will be closed, and we’ll be hunting for a new one. Something quiet where we can talk, something central so those of us who drink can take the bus or walk, and something safe so that the kids can still join us. There’s a lot of memories there, and I’m sad to see it go.