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Baby, It’s Cold Outside! (That’s Why I’m Inside)

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Okay, so maybe this doesn’t mean much to you people in Scottsdale, Arizona, or Hilo, Hawaii, but Baby it’s cold outside!

Some places -- not remotely close to where I live, incidentally -- are eternally springlike. Summer Breeze by Steve Henderson

The Norwegian Artist and I regularly walk three miles a day, in one mile increments, but lately I’ve been joining the dog near the wood stove and giving the Norwegian That Look when he arrives from the studio, leash in hand, and booms out, “I’m in the mood for a WALK!”

By the way, the leash is for the dog.

Who, incidentally, pauses for whatever passes for thought in a dog’s brain, even though she has two extra reasons for taking a walk than we do, if I can avoid being more explicit than that.

While around this time of year, my exercise regime tends to focus on indoor aerobic DVD s, or indoor yoga DVD s, or indoor Pilate DVD s (there is a recurring theme), the Norwegian Artist reaches deep back into his arctic roots and does everything but jump into the creek and run naked back to the sauna, which is fortunate because, although we have a creek, we don’t have a sauna.

“The cold, crisp air is invigorating and exhilarating!”

It’s hard to tell if it’s foggy immediately around our faces or if that is simply the exhalation of the Norwegian’s warm breath into his 80-degrees-cooler-than-normal-body-temperature-surroundings, and it doesn’t matter to me if you use Fahrenheit or Celsius with that description, because once all of the trees look like those fake frosted Christmas trees, it’s just plain COLD, and any sensible person is sitting by the woodstove, doing jigsaw puzzles with the dog.

While yes, there is a creek close enough to jump into (fun in the summer), there is no corresponding sauna. Where the River Bends by Steve Henderson

Actually, there are a lot of things that need to be done inside, with or without the dog, the latter which I’ve lately caught gazing longingly at the toilet as more than just a ceramic water bowl.

(Speaking of which, the female progeny and I spent last Friday night watching YouTube videos of cats-on-toilets-potty-training techniques, which isn’t weird, really, because 649,252 other people watched the same clips before we did. This Friday, we’ll look up the dog versions.)

But back to things you can do inside, as opposed to taking walks with the Norwegian Artist, and the dog, outside: dishes, laundry, vacuuming, dusting, changing the Toddler’s diaper (another YouTube idea, there) – it’s amazing how the most mundane of tasks become qualifiable exercise activities when Jack Frost squats outside on the porch and takes up residence.

You’d think that, being a knitter with 13 wool hats, and counting, from which to select for outside wear, I would welcome the chance to try out the scarves, and the mittens, and the socks, and the sweaters, but I find that I get more than enough satisfaction modeling these creations on my way from the front door to the car, which I then drive – heat at full blast – to the library where I check out another exercise DVD.

It's so snuggy and warm and inviting -- Inside the farm house. Winterscape Farm by Steve Henderson

On my way back, I spot the Norwegian, and the dog, on the driveway, and I give a warm, welcoming wave. Somebody needs to be inside to put another log on that wood stove fire.


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