Clear Blue Skies

It seems, that, as the temperatures plummet, my ability to string a sentence together and hit publish dwindles too.

Curling up on the sofa with fleecy tops and blankets doesn’t seem to inspire any words. On reflection, maybe the problem is that curling up in front of the TV results in few tall tales to tell. Would you want to hear all about The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants? I thought not. I can’t remember the last time I just pulled on a jacket for a walk outside and some fresh air. Every expedition out involves at least two layers of trousers, a long-sleeved base layer and a couple of sweaters. It sort of puts an end to just popping out on a whim.

Having said all of which, at least in Chicago the cold weather sometimes comes with clear skies. It’s a phenomenon which catches you out at the start of the winter season. The windows in the apartment reveal bright blue skies, sharp edges and not a cloud in sight. Unfortunately, once outside it becomes apparent that blue skies come with a cost; usually fingers, toes and earlobes. As the winter wears on, the clear skies fool no-one. It will be cold outside and there is always the need for gloves even if you don’t think you need them.

Today is not one of those days. Today the sky is heavy and gray and not at all working to tempt me out of the apartment. It’s a fleece pants on the sofa, ten cups of tea and some marmite toast day.

Luckily, over the last week there have been a few of the bright, colorful days that look fantastic from inside, but burn your ears off when you get out there. Friday was one of those days. Everything was so clear and sparkling fresh that I took my camera on a walk to the wonderful Tar-Zhay.* See how I did that? I got exercise, took some pictures and was able to get some shopping done. It was beautiful. I should probably have taken the photos on the way there, but I got chatting to a girl from my apartment building on the walk over and had to deal with bags, camera and the stares of the line at the bus stop. Does nothing for the crazy British woman reputation. The walk over was amusing, we met in the elevator car, commented on the crazy negative temperatures and said goodbye in the lobby. Then we walked out the back door together and said our farewells. Across Wabash and to the lights, after a third time of saying bye, we discovered we were both going to the same place.

Here’s the view from our shopping trip.

And this is the closest you’ll get to a picture of me – can you see the twenty coat layer?

* Target is, awesome. It needs no explanation if you’ve been and if you’ve not, awesome is the only explanation you need.