© 2008 Karen Van Fossan
"Cold enough for ya?" asked Ralph, as I blustered into a holiday party on Sunday. Shivering in my boots, I said, "Just about!"
Of all the winter traditions, this brief exchange (Cold enough for ya? Just about!) might be my all-time favorite.
A couple of years ago, a friend from Arizona landed here in February. She turned to me with wide eyes. "Is it possible that my nose hairs are freezing?" she asked. "Oh, yes!" I said.
I used to describe the cold to my Illinois grandpa. "As long as I keep blinking, my eyelashes don't freeze together, and I'm OK."
Sometimes Ferne (age 99 1/2) will ask me for the weather report, so I give it to her in layers. Lately, we've had Ski-Mask-Plus-Hat-Plus-Scarf Days. So far, those are the coldest.
A student of Kris's just got frostbite on his face. Ooops! Playing in the snow, he couldn't discern the kill-you cold from the really-kill-you cold.
Facing the really-kill-you cold, I go for a walk with Jasmine. As Jasmine (part Siberian Husky) leaps into the snowbanks, I have an urge to ask her, "Cold enough for ya?"
She kicks up snow with her snout. And I can almost hear her -- "Just about!"