The Song: Yeasayer, "Wait for the Wintertime." Words & music by Yeasayer (Anand Wilder, Chris Keating, Luke Fasano, & Ira Wolf Tuton). Track 8 of All Hour Cymbals, 2007.
How/when acquired: Gift CD, 2008.
Listen/watch here.
I beg to differ. It's not snowing, but I'm not happy. I put off walking Dizzy this morning for as long as I could, until he was yelping and frantic, but the thermometer still read -11F when we left the apartment. After an hour of sunshine, it's warmed up to -9.
How cold is -11? Cold enough to make you unpleasantly aware not only of the hair in your nostrils, but of the hair in your ears as well. Cold enough to make you feel every piece of dental work in your mouth and every healed fracture in every bone you ever broke. Cold enough to fog up your sunglasses just from the warmth of your skin. Cold enough to make you want to hurt something as bad as you hurt.
I have to go out again in about an hour. Between now and then, I need to take a shower, and really ought to wash my hair. I don't own a bonnet hairdryer, and I just pray I have enough time to blowdry every drop of moisture out of the hair on my head.
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