What a ridiculous time of year to have a birthday. All my friends seem to be able to celebrate their birthdays on patios and beaches, in gardens and beer tents, on long sunny evenings, and sweet, warm afternoons. I have rarely celebrated a birthday that did not include the words "snow squall", "ice storm" or "power outage".
Today for my birthday, it was -21 out when I drove Thing 1 to school this morning (even I'm not so much of a hard ass as to make her walk in that.) and the temperature soared up to a wretched -13 when I was coming home from work. You know it is cold when you sit down gingerly, so that the fabric of your pants comes in minimum contact with your skin.
This was the scene outside my kitchen window this morning:
Check out the statue of Venus. She's shivering.
The only way for me to aleviate the horror that is mid-January, is to crawl into bed, get comfy and warm, and eat lots and lots of birthday cake.