It’s officially winter. I know this because I was wearing my winter coat over my pajamas as I walked Booker this morning and the entire time I was wishing I had gloves. No matter how many times I checked my pockets, gloves did not appear. Booker thought it was delightful and bounded from blade of grass to blade of grass, sniffing and cheerfully cataloguing ever scented nuance. Of course, he was wearing a fur coat. And furry paws. And he’s not generally known for complaining about the weather (unless there is precipitation, in which case he has very clear views about staying inside). It seems like a ridiculously short time since I declared the start of fall, but shivering is a pretty good indicator of cold imho.
The Weather People (fooey) said there was going to be snow last night. They were wrong. (Excuse me one moment while I faint in surprise.) More interestingly (to me, anyway) my car has views on the weather! It was raining a little, but the streets were mostly dry when I left for work. I was on the hill heading down toward the fire station when my car beeped (I am NOT making this up) and a message came up on the display saying that there might be ice on the roads and I should please drive safely.
I. Was. Floored. (Which is better than my foot being floored what with the warning and all.) I’ve never had a car be concerned about my safety before.
But then I thought about it for a few minutes. Was the car asking me to drive safely to protect me or it? Is a car capable of the same sense of self-preservation I get when I have to walk down icy steps? Is Fred (that’s the car’s name because of the license plates) a kind, caring friend or just a selfish jerk?
In other warming news, Starbucks plans to open a tea house—the first one will be in NYC which is fab for Upper East Siders but not really an improvement for those of us in the Midwest.