Freezing in Zillah

I came back to Zillah on Sunday. The countryside was white with snow, and it the temperatures were well below freezing. Today is Tuesday, and I have the fireplace in the old farmhouse going, as well as the furnace. I’m gravitating towards warm drinks, warm food, anything that is warm.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a chicken. I don’t tend to run away from this stuff. After all, I was born in the Canadian Prairies. Winters were (and are) still a lot tougher there. When I talk to Mom or one of my siblings on the phone, they also always tell update me on the temperature (always a lot colder than it is here). They tell me about the snow (always deeper than it is here). So, I have a constant reminder of where I came from.

Today, for the first time since I got back Sunday, I opened up the pet door so that Max the Cat and PJ can get outside. They’re not in the least bit interested. They’re not chicken either. OK, Max is chicken. He’s looked a couple of times out at the snowing landscape, and felt the sting of the frigid breeze. I can see the expression on his face, “What? Me in that? When it’s warm inside? No way!” PJ, too, goes outside for the bare minimum requirements, and heads right back in. Not great weather for the pets to be outdoors.

I get to warm up the truck now, and head into Toppenish for work. I have to remember to get going a little early. The morning ritual of pre-warming the vehicle has started. It will continue for the next couple of months at least. I don’t mind that too much either. I did it for nearly half my life. The cold half.