I must have some sort of celebration. It is the eleventh day of the first month of 2011, and at this moment my blog has been viewed 111 times so far this month. So thank you, anonymous 111th viewer, for turning a rather dreary day into something more auspicious.
It's cold today, not just ordinary winter cold, but that fierce biting cold that creeps into your bones until you feel like you'll never really be warm again. That type of cold doesn't seem to care what the thermometer says. Sometimes I can feel it on a summer day, although it does come more often in the winter. It's cold the way some people's houses are cold. It doesn't matter what the thermostat says. It's simply cold, uninviting. It doesn't want you there. It wants to freeze you out. Of course, this could only be my overactive imagination, but I don't think so. The only solution is to warm it somehow, like trying to thaw open the car door with a hair dryer.
This afternoon my warming solution is hot cocoa in a tea-cup, one hour of silence, the music of A. R. Rahman, a ballet class, and a quiet evening with my husband.