I feel like I am coming to the end of this arctic cold spell by slowly crawling over the finish line. Maybe even not quite crawling but more rolled into a fetal position, drooling out the right side of my mouth and rolling clumsily over the finish line, and by rolling here, I more accurately mean, dragging myself by the power of one elbow. It's Sunday night and I've barely left the house since last Wednesday. I can barely believe that sweet pea hasn't turned into cujo due to sudden lack of exercise. She is the best.
Leaving the house on Thursday wasn't an option due to the weather from hell, aka: bomb cyclone, and Friday until right now was just too damned cold. One of my dog park acquaintances shared a weather chart which pretty much said that it was dangerous to take sweet pea sized dogs out under 20 degrees, and that was all I needed to hear. I won't cause harm to sweet pea! She's my freaking life line these days. She is better than any of my 2 legged kids, for sure.
I won't even get to walk her tomorrow because they are putting a defibrillator into the husband's chest tomorrow. So I had to pay someone to show up and walk her. I'm not entirely devastated because there is all this snow still hanging around. I hate snow. Almost as much as I hate winter. But, back to the defibrillator. I am all tied up inkiest over this. I am still not convinced it is a good idea. The husband is starting to get nervous too, which is weird, since I am under the impression that he isn't experiencing much of anything these days. I think right now he is hyper focusing on that he isn't supposed to eat past midnight. He does do some serious eating after I go to bed at night, so he keeps reminding himself. I think maybe I'll have a chat with my guardian angels before I drift off to sleep tonight. I hope they don't kill him tomorrow. I'm not ready to go through that.
And it's winter. I read something about not being able to bury someone because the ground was frozen. Is this true? That happens? The husband does not want to be cremated, he wants to be buried. Everything here is totally frozen. I can't cope with complications right now. Really, nothing extra on my plate please.
Wildmom suggested that the farthest south I could go and not be in southern accent land is Philadelphia so I am trying to wrap my head around eventually landing in that area. Matt is in Philly. I wonder how he would feel about his mama near by. Probably bummed!
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