Surviving the Cold

The heater is not working in Ben's house, so when we congregate in the living room to watch the winter Olympics (figure skating is our favorite), we wear sweatshits, jackets, and blankets, with our hands stuffed into our pockets and our heads hunched into our shoulders. A few nights ago, after Ben and I returned from our exhausting activities (he worked and I took a hike into Pogonip, which is a state park just a mile and a half away), we filled a styrofam cooler full of hot water, put it next to the side of his bed, sat down and put our feet in. Think of the splinters you see in ice cubes. That is a good illustration of how our feet felt upon first contact. The contrast between the temperature of the room and the heat of the water was so sharp that it hurt and our feet screamed in a mixture of pain and delight. Ben said: "Kaela, just keep your feet in there, it will feel REALLY good in a minute, I promise." And it did. We just sat back and relaxed. I highly recommend it.