Just before dawn today, the thermometer hanging on our ash tree read 9°F. Six feet to the right, the temperature was a wind-chilled -5°F.'Tis the season for learning again how to conserve warmth, taking longer perform tasks with gloved hands and other such inconveniences. This is no time for machismo -- I, for one, don't care what my bundled-up appearance says about my manhood. It's about staying warm and dry.
Snow has been falling (technically) for several days here, squalling and flurrying and not amounting to much. We're well beyond the reach of lake-effect snowfall that's been slamming northeastern Ohio.
The KintlaLake household devoted some of last weekend to holiday decor. Our first task was to strike our harvest display and haul corn shocks, gourds and pumpkins around back for their appointment with my machete.
I scattered ears of feed corn, along with chopped-up pumpkins, out by the tree line as a treat for wintering critters. Cornstalks got tossed onto the garden plot and hacked to bits.
We then unpacked boxes labeled "XMAS" and lovingly placed decades of memories around the house. Since I'm still not up to par here, a cheerful Mrs. KintlaLake managed the ritual, indoors and out.
So now there's a wreath on our front door and another on the garden shed. A candle glows in every window. Hundreds of tiny white lights twinkle from the porch at passers-by. A fir from North Carolina leans against the back wall of the house, awaiting its place in the living room. We'll bring it inside and trim it later this week.
Cold as it is outside, we're wrapped in the warmth of the holiday season, our first in these new digs. It feels good.
