It's freezing here, I say to a friend.
How did you ever manage to live two years in Kapuskasing? she asks.
And I snivel. In kapuskasing I had a parka, I had thickly lined boots, great big woollen scarves, gloves, mitts and all you could see were my eyes. In Houston, I am unprepared for the cold. I gave away my parka and scarves and mitts and inch-thick socks, because I never wanted to have to use them again. Any trips to Canada or elsewhere would have to be in the summer.
I forget how cold it can get even here, in winter. Why did GM have to go all the way to Kapuskasing to do their cold weather vehicle testing when they could have done both the hot and cold weather vehicle testing right here in Texas?
And guess who takes Murphy out in the cold morning? Though I seem to be the only one in the neighborhood with a hoodie. Perhaps my blood is not designed for the cold. In Montreal, a friend of mine and I went looking for her Afghan hound, Melinda, and at the end of the walk around the block, my hands were like dead fish and her seventy year old hands were so warm as she took mine in hers and massaged them back to life. Even on warm days, anytime I have to shake hands with someone, I have to first rub my hand on my clothes before offering it. And then I wonder what was the last thing that the other hand touched before it grasped mine. Here, my imagination runs wild....
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10 comments:
Hi Anu,
Thanks for all the good thoughts and sharing your friends story.
Hope you find her back!
Take care !!
Tripti,
I'm greatly inspired by your courage. I became an absolute basketcase when my dog, Sirocco died. Now two years later, I'm finally laughing, dancing, enjoying. For how long, I don't know, but I'm happy now and that's all that matters.
Though my winter exposure is limited to 2 degrees (celcius), I'm more comfortable and cozy in winter than summer. Hot food and drinks (like soups) + TV (may be romantic scenes) + winter is the heaven made for loners. If I have my better half with me, whatelse, U ask God to give.
ok. i always always comment on the situation you describe in your post and then narrate some similar experience of my own. but today i am compelled to tell you about how beautifully you write. as i near the end of every post in your blog, i expect it to end simply and normally. but i am mildly surprised every time. you are truly a gifted writer.
I like spring, summer and fall. I like to be able to step out barefoot on my patio and driveway, at least. And I like not having to bundle myself up every time I have to go out. Winter is wonderful for a couple of days :-) Razigan, your better half is absolutely lovely...
Rima, I honestly find it hard to see myself as a gifted writer, but thanks much. You write very lucidly, fluidly. I love reading your comments and please do continue to share your personal experiences...
oh thanks so much! it means a lot, coming from you!
i am here to stay on your blog :)
Stay on, Rima. I lovvvvvvve people too, not just dogs :-)
It's funny that you wonder what that hand touched last. It's also a short step to trying to protect yourself from every microbe that might be lurking on the next surface you touch. A doctor friend of mine used to carry alcohol swabs to clean his hands before every meal. He would also rarely touch his face, all because he believed that most disease was spread by touch. Perhaps he was right but when should spontaneity surrender to fear. How far beyond prudence lies phobia. I will still keep shaking hands and reaching out. I have a lifetime guarantee, no more no less!
A pleasant peasant :)
I practically live in jeans and I'm all American in many ways but there are some things about me that are very Indian. For formal introductions, I'm all for the Namaste. It's a beautiful gesture, paying respect and honor to the other, and at the same time allowing me to be reserved until I get to know the person. With people I like, of course, it's heck to the microbes and I welcome the hug and kiss.
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