City Musing: Ice Cold Cambridge

Is Anyone Else Cold?
It's bitter. Face-stinging, eye-watering, finger-snapping cold. It's the kind of cold that you swallow through your neck and immediately freezes your appendages. Suddenly fingers and toes no longer work. Oh, Cambridge. These are the kind of winters that make you infamous.

In an effort to get warm, I am continuously cranking up the heat and brewing coffee around the clock. I am layering my clothes and wishing that stores offered lifestyle handwarmers. You know, to keep inside the pockets of the sweatshirt that's under the second bathrobe. Ooh, and electric socks. When is someone going to engineer those? I'll buy stock.

So it snowed all day yesterday. It just snowed and snowed and snowed. And yet strangely, when I took my camera outside today to capture the snowy remnants left by the night's frost, there wasn't much to be captured. But there was still enough cold in the air to temporarily freeze my fingers so I could no longer click the button on my camera. Awesome. However, I wanted to capture my town while it's cold because, obviously, this is a big part of Boston's identity: COLD WEATHER. Call me sentimental, but I even want to remember this ridiculous weather. When I'm not here anymore. So snuggle up and enjoy. Your heater.

So in an effort to stay warm this evening, I will be snuggling up with my honey and watching last night's episode of Downton Abbey. Obviously, the Superbowl took priority last night (and Beyonce and Alicia Keys' performances totally made it worth it to me). My favorite new addition to a traditional Downton evening? Home-cooked kettle corn and La Croix. Yes oh yes. It's a good night to stay in.