Feb. 6th, 2003

pameladean: (Default)
Or a very exaggerated reaction to dry winter air, but I suspect the former. I am Taking Steps. I have been rather cavalier about exposure to colds -- I probably got this one from Eric -- because of the flu shot. I can't take decongestants and shouldn't take a lot of NSAIDs, so nipping it in the bud is a very good idea. I don't know if viruses have buds. They might. Being so very weird and all. It's a very very drippy cold. Feh.

It's a beautiful winter day. Yesterday there was enough light snow to cover up the slightly dingy aspects of the previous layer, and now everything glitters and sparkles, all soft and dimpled and blanketed. The sky is soft blue, with a few puffy -- if fast-moving -- clouds. It's not so benign from outside, however, being windy and cold and dry. At least it's above zero. I always think, sometime during a Minnesota winter, of the lovely line in -- oh horrors, I have to go look it up, since all the later books blur together in my mind into one long story -- Laura Ingalls Wilder's THESE HAPPY GOLDEN YEARS: "Everyone was so happy and gay for it was only twenty degrees below zero and the sun shone."

Pamela

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