Still freezing …

December 15, 2008 | Iowa,Weather,Winter

… with jaw-dropping (or -locking) 30-degree-below-zero windchill.

Is that even legal?

Well, it shouldn’t be.

Walking in a winter wonderland

December 9, 2008 | Iowa,Weather,Winter

Well … sort of.

It’s our first snow day.

Baby, it’s cold outside

December 2, 2008 | Iowa,Weather,Winter

Sorry I haven’t blogged for a while, but I’ve been busy freezing. No, not freezing, as in preserving apples and putting them in the freezer. Just freezing. As in … brrrr.

When this coldness started — before the snow in October — and I was bundled up in my brand-spankin’ new winter coat, someone wearing sandals walked up to me, leaned in and said, “This isn’t cold yet.” Gee, thanks. (He knew I just moved here from Florida. Maybe the Arctic Circle winter gear in September was the tip-off.)

The amazing this is … 8 degrees makes 20 degrees feel bearable, 20 makes 32 feel almost comfortable, and 32 makes 40 feel downright balmy. That explains the folks I see wearing shorts. Well, no, not really. Nothing explains that. But, in a way, I can see now how 50 degrees feels like it’s time to break out the T-shirts and shorts, where 50 degrees in Tampa had me scrambling for my coat.

I shouldn’t be surprised by the cold. I mean, I grew up in the Midwest. I should know better, right? But something in the brain shuts down and forgets. It’s like when I first moved to Florida, I went swimming in the ocean in December. Heck, after a record-breaking frigid Midwestern winter, it felt tropical to me. People who lived there thought I was crazy. By the next December, I was wearing my winter coat just like the rest of them.

Early on, I was impressed by how warm the house here stayed. Hmm, must be the new windows, and maybe the insulation is good, I thought. It’s a brick house. That probably helps.

Well, that was all before the temperature dropped below 20 outside. Then it was just darn cold everywhere, even in the house. So I started wearing my Winter Silks long johns, the ones I hadn’t worn (hadn’t had to wear) since living in Norway. I wear them all the time now. In fact, I’m wearing them right now. Is that TMI?

And I totally cheated and opened my Christmas gift from Norway early. (Shhh! Don’t tell the kids.) It’s a new winter dyne for my bed … sort of like a duvet, but better. Oh, what a wonderful difference it makes to stay nice and toasty at night. I knock Norwegians for a lot of things, but this one they got right. Well, they didn’t actually invent the dyne … they’re all over Europe. Norwegians like to brag about inventing the paper clip, yadda yadda. But if they want credit for the dyne, I’ll give it to them.

Nightmare in Norway

January 21, 2008 | Health,Norway,Traveling,Winter

A Visit from St. Pukealot

‘Twas the Nightmare in Norway, and all through the house
Every creature swam in puke, even the mouse;
The stockings hung by the chimney were dry,
Only because projectile vomit couldn’t blow that high.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of anything but food danced in their heads,
After sloshing through soaked towels and sheets 3 feet deep,
We collapsed, exhausted, and hoped for some sleep.

When from the bedroom came the familiar sound,
Of at least one child horking and stumbling around.
With puke bucket and towel I rushed to the door,
To rip off the sheets and clean up the floor.

The moon and the snow … who cares about that?
I was too busy cleaning up stuff that goes splat.
It all started with one little puke in the morning,
By Son No. 2 — we got our first warning.

The Daughter started screaming, we had no idea,
That our days would be filled with puke and diarrhea,
She puked at the restaurant and in the car ride home,
The rest of the day, all night and then some.

Now PUKING! now HORKING! now BLOWING YOUR COOKIES!
On VOMIT! on SPEWING! on BARFING and RETCHING!
To the top of the ceiling, to the top of the wall!
Now puke away puke away puke away all!

To the doctor she went the first and second day,
Then to the hospital two-and-a-half hours away,
She got IV fluids and fell fast asleep,
We slept on the floor in an exhausted heap.

And then, in a rumbling, while I lay on my back
The virus decided it was time to attack.
As I ran for the bathroom, and was turning around,
Up the gullet St. Pukealot came with a bound.

It came in a dash, I didn’t quite get there,
I got to the sink, hell, I didn’t care;
So, great, now we’re ALL locked in isolation,
What a sucky-ass, horrible, nasty vacation.

But, wait, it gets better, for when we got back,
Son No. 2 did nothing but yack, yack, yack, yack.
More puke in the bed, in his hair, on the floor,
Think that’s enough? Oh, no, hon. There’s more.

Son No. 1 joined the chorus of the vomitous pukefest,
He lost too much weight, and we still got no rest,
His face was so gaunt, and his bones stuck out,
Oh, what have we done, I wanted to shout.

Do you think, dear readers, that’s as bad as it got?
Guess what. It got worse, even worse — by a lot.
By the time we recovered, it was time to depart,
Through the Gates of Hell, er, the Oslo Airport.

Ah, I misspoke, we couldn’t leave — not just yet,
We were held hostage and put into more debt,
Because those who run Purgatory, er, “customer service,”
Wouldn’t let us on board; rules are rules, they told us.

So we dished out the dough and got home a day late,
All sick with head colds this time, isn’t that great?
Do you think I’m excited for more holiday cheer?
Bah humbug! We ain’t going nowhere next year.

Bad moon rising

January 17, 2008 | Norway,Vacation,Winter

Well, it doesn’t rise so much as circle. It appears from behind one side of the mountain and disappears behind the other.