My favorite piece of clothing is my air conditioner
July 23, 2011
My air conditioner doesn’t count? Okay then, my favorite piece of clothing is the one I’m not wearing. No? Your favorite piece of my clothing is the one that I didn’t take off because I do have air conditioning.
As a Minnesotan who writes a blog, you have no doubt noticed that I must periodically dwell on the weather. This is much easier to justify if we’ve just gotten fourteen inches of snow in one twelve-hour shot, or if, as it has, it has been 300° (Fahrenheit or Celsius, take your pick) with humidity that would make a Swedish sauna proud for all but two non-consecutive days in the last three weeks.
What inspires such things as my grouse about elevators is that my mother passed her overheated physiology right on to her only child. What got from my father, who is exactly the opposite of my mother and runs for sweaters when it dips below 80°F/27°C, is a better ability to cope with the heat. What I bring to the table on my own is my understanding that the better hydrated I am, the less uncomfortable I will be. That, and my acceptance of having to sequester myself within the air conditioned bubble.
It’s all relative, I know. Just today, a native-Floridian friend (actually, I think he’s Equadoran before Floridian, the point being tropical, or close to it) quipped that he “never understood people suffering in heat waves.” But he’s currently visiting New York City to where my Minnesota heat wave has moved, allowing him to commune with people who don’t usually experience 104°F/40°C temperatures and high humidity, and suddenly he has a different perspective. Of course in Florida it’s humid and hot. Here in the north, it gets pretty hot for a while and kind of humid sometimes, but not the extremes of both days on end.
We must complain.
But can you blame me? Two days ago, we set a new high dewpoint record of 82°F/28°C, during an air temperature of 95°F/35°C, resulting in a heat index of 114°F/45°C.
Now we’re on the same page, aren’t we?. There are only so many garments one can remove when one is overheated. My favorite piece of clothing is my air conditioner!
Chillin???, er, chilly
May 27, 2011
It is May 26 and I have just turned my heat on. Why, you ask? Is it because I live in the southern hemisphere and it’s winter? Is it because I forgot to shut the refrigerator door? No, it’s because my place is old and drafty.
I live in a rowhouse which was built in the 1890s. It’s very solid and heavy, but I have a feeling that the ground it occupies is not all that solid. Consequently, the building must be constantly shifting as it settles its 115-year-old self. I’m on the ground level and my cement floor has become more and more uneven as my five and a half years of residence have passed.
We are in the northern hemisphere, and spring has been a little stingy about having consistently seasonally temperatures. The sun is high and warm if you’re basking in it, but the air temperature has mostly on the cool side of the average. But I was still running the heat regularly until two weeks ago. And it was just five days ago that I allowed myself to be publicly excited about not having had it on for a whole week! Then, a couple of chilly evenings and tonight I’m reaching for the On switch.
My place takes its time warming up in the spring. I suppose that’s mostly because of all the tiny cracks that must exist in the walls and door and window frame from its age and unsteady footing. Sometimes I wonder if the floorplan has a little to do with it, too, although I can’t imagine that would really be relevant.
Being a rowhouse, the space is long, narrow, and open, with no full interior walls. The floorplan was one of the things that attracted me to it. Of course the bathroom is enclosed, and there are a couple of nice walk-in closets with walls. Three half walls help with the rest of the load-bearing duties. But I have no rooms and no doors. Privacy is tricky when I have visitors.
I drew the diagram above when I bought the place so that I could plan things. You’re seeing the paint color layer. The sitting room and living room have since become known more basically as the front room and the middle room. I’m nothing if not practical.
Practicality is probably part of causes me to whine about turning the heat on tonight. By the end of May, you’d sure think you wouldn’t have to any more. It’s a psychological thing. But I sure will take this kind of weather any time over the inevitable temperature destination that will have me turning the air conditioning on.
The day in snow: Blizzard roadtrip!
February 21, 2011
Part 1: Back story
I have a good reason. My friend Sara and her podcast partner Rob from How Much Do We Love are having a live performance in Chicago tomorrow night. Sara lives in California, I live in Minneapolis. One of my two best friends from Minneapolis, Rob, moved to California and is now one of her best friends. So Sara and I are friends via the transitive property. There are two Robs—my friend (and now Sara’s) and Sara’s podcast partner who lives in Chicago. Confused? So Sara and podcast Rob decided to do a live performance version of How Much Do We Love. Since Chicago is in my neck of the woods, roughly speaking and definitely relative to California, I decided to hop in the car, contingent upon my tax refunds finding their way to my checking account. They did. As a bonus, my friend California Rob is going, too. But he was the lucky one. He got to fly. Today, he only had to drive from Madison where he had overnighted with his brother. Unlike me, who had to drive from Minneapolis. I suppose I could have flown, but a flight is so much more expensive than three-plus tanks of gas in my economical Hyundai Accent. It’s a good car, but it has the bodyweight of a gnat and therein lies the problem. It was no surprise that it blizzarded today. But the timing kept changing. By suppertime yesterday, I had resigned myself to waiting until Monday (tomorrow) to drive down, because the forecast at that time said the snow would start during the overnight. But when I woke up at 7:00 this morning there was not a flake in sight. The weather radar made me think that if I could just get going, I’d avoid a large part of the trouble. This seemed like the thing to do, as the forecast now said that snow would continue through about midday Monday. Part 2: The drive
Of course, hoping to leave within an hour turned into actually leaving in two. Okay, so I laid in bed for forty-five minutes contemplating it all while checking forecasts for cities along Interstate 94 and hypnotoading myself with the radar loop trying to figure out where the blob was going and how quickly. I hit the road at 10:15, just as the snow was beginning to fall in earnest in Minneapolis. I was still optimistic.
For a while, just a while, I, in my fluffy little Hyundai Accent, managed to drive at speeds up to 50mph. That didn’t last too long. By the time I availed myself of the rest stop at Menomonie WI, conditions were deteriorating quickly.
This is the mayhem that I was endeavoring to traverse, from the upper left pin to the lower right. Kindly disregard that one in the middle that’s out of line.
As I neared Eau Claire WI, conditions were approaching white-out (I refuse to spell it Wite Out®). What qualifies as white-out? At best, I could see 1/10 mile ahead of me. At the second Eau Claire exit, traffic was diverted off of I-94 to US Highway 12. Tonight I heard it was because of a twenty-car pile-up. At the exit, there were four vehicles in either ditch. I shall now digress and editorialize about something that irks me at the best of driving times—tailgaters. It’s bad enough that when you’re flying down the freeway at speed, people think it’s okay to ride ten feet off your bumper. Today, in the blizzard+white out conditions, people were riding ten feet off other people’s bumpers. What in the name of [insert your favorite diety here] makes you think that’s a good idea when it’s slippery and you can’t see anything? Your tailgaiting me makes me go slower, not faster. It’s counterproductive. It’s a blizzard, for [x]‘s sake. Don’t be a fucking ass because you drive an SUV. Other people don’t. I understand the limitations of my particular car and drive accordingly. It’s not a winter car. I had no business being on the road today. But since I foolishly chose to be so, I drove within the parameters that it is capable of meeting under such conditions. You’re just going to have to wait for me, or use the other lane to pass me. Your tailgating is not going to make me drive in a manner that my car can’t handle.
So we got shunted onto Highway 12, and I stopped at the next gas station to use the facilities and to clear the ice off my windshield wipers. The passenger side one had been caked with ice since shortly after the Menomonie rest stop and my driver’s side was almost holding its own, but every now and then I had to open my window and grab it and try to smack it against the windshield as it made its pass.
The nice lady at the gas station recommended taking 12 to Wisconsin 53 to Osseo WI, where there is a big junction with I-94. It was while driving on 53 that I realized that was the way to go. The road surface may have been less clear than the interstate, but I had more confidence in it, and I quickly realized major advantages. On the less major roads, there was far less traffic, and trees, property, and any other stuff is closer to the road which allows you to more easily keep your bearings during blizzard driving, and it provides more interesting viewing while you’re driving so you don’t get fatigued by white white white white. I was delighted once again by Mother Nature’s beauty.
I took 53 to US 10 just west of Osseo, where I stopped at the SuperValu for the bathroom and a snack. I decided to stay off I-94 and rejoined Highway 12 about ten miles further east. The snow began to ease and the clouds became less thick, and for a while, there were some really interesting quality of light things going on. I don’t know if these photos do it any justice.
At Black River Falls WI, I decided to get back onto I-94. The lanes were pretty clear and I was fairly confident pushing the needle to 40–45mph. Quality of light continued as I moved into the “wintry mix” portion of the weather. Thundersnow was forecast for south-central Wisconsin. The clouds were alternately thick and dark, and looser with the sun almost poking through.
Shortly after Black River Falls, there was a rest stop at which I paused. Just as I pulled in, it started to hail. Okay, so it was really tiny and probably technically large sleet, but I’m calling it hail. They were very discreet, peppercorn-sized balls. I took the opportunity to eat one of the sandwiches I had packed. I’m very glad I packed sandwiches.
Well, within about half an hour, darkness began to settle on the situation. I passed Tomah WI and began to have thoughts of hitting up California Rob’s Madison brother for a place to crash, because it was becoming apparent that it would be after midnight by the time I got to Chicago, or fourteen hours on the road in stressful conditions. I tried to push on in the darkness, but it rather quickly became obvious that with the liquid precipitation that was now falling which was likely freezing rain, and all the semi-trucks that were whizzing past me in the left lane, temporarily blinding me each time, I was operating under very unsafe conditions and was rapidly becoming fatigued. I decided I couldn’t even make it to Madison and exited at the next lodging opportunity, which was Mauston WI, which is from where I’m now writing to you.
I had a reservation at a Super 8 in Chicago, so that’s what I chose in Mauston, hoping I could transfer tonight’s booking here. Because of the extremely cheap rate, I couldn’t do that and had to pay here, too, but no matter. What’s my safety worth? Certainly more than the cost of a hotel room. And it’s a really nice room, too, well worth the $55 (my Chicago rate was $43).
However, unlike its neighbor, the Country Inn Suites, it does not have a bar. So I went next door to DJ’s, and hung out for a while. Though I could have chosen the 16-ounce cans of Keystone Light for $1.50, I instead opted for the $3 Hacker-Pschorr Weiss and $3 Guinness Draught. I brought two cans of Guinness back to the Super 8 with me, which I have enjoyed while recounting my tale. So that was (ahem) five beers and a frozen pizza for $20 plus tip.
My safety, priceless. I will forge ahead in daylight tomorrow.That???s brisk, baby!
February 9, 2011
Back in December, I shared with you our blizzard of the decade. I declared that if it was winter, it ought to be cold, and there ought to be snow. It’s two months later and winter has not let me down.
Overnight was only the second coldest of the winter so far. It didn’t quite go down to double digits below zero Fahrenheit like the other one did about a month ago, but at a certain point, splitting hairs over a degree or five is, well, pointless. It’s cold!
I walk seven minutes in the morning to catch the light rail train that delivers me to the office, and thirty minutes hoofing it all the way home after work. It’s a good walk because it’s long enough to be beneficial as exercise, but not so long that it’s boring and I lose interest and don’t do it. The last winter or two have been relatively mild, both from temperature and snowfall standpoints. It’s true I have been overusing my winter boots this year, but I had completely forgotten until today about my wear-contacts-instead-of-glasses technique. It was so fantastic this morning to keep my face covered with double-scarfing and still be able to actually see where I was going, versus my usual alternating between a warm nose and only half fogged up glasses. Seeing is good!
I should have recalled this winter survival method sooner. I feel like it’s been since about October, but really, it’s probably only been since November that I can count on one hand the number of days that the temperature has been above freezing. I’m probably exaggerating by a month. Below-zero probably only started in December. About on Monday after the blizzard.
As a result of the prevailing temperatures, the snow has hung around. At my location in downtown Minneapolis, we got about fourteen inches of snow in the blizzard, then, during the next week, about four or six inches additional. I can remember one “stretch” of two or three days that it was above freezing, but not so radically that much of the snow melted. Not much of the snow has melted.
If each day were equivalent to 10,000 years, this winter would be an ice age and the snow banks in my front yard would be glaciers. The little birdies that somehow stay alive and function in these temperatures would still be T. rexes and I wouldn’t have to wear my contacts and bundle up with long underwear, winter boots, double scarfing, two pairs of handwear, and two layers of headwear plus the hood of my sleeping bag down coat because the comet wouldn’t have yet struck and it would still be tropical.
So these, then, were the conditions today, at 8:00am and 4:00am. Things improved by a whole 12 degrees Fahrenheit. Crisp and clean with no caffeine. Cold? Yes. Minnesota? You betcha!
*Those two door slams in the birdie movie are my neighbor Jen coming home. Just in case you were curious.
Hug a tree, in winter
December 21, 2010
I am no tree hugger—well, maybe I am more than some people—but there are no fake plastic trees in my neighborhood! I will start you with this gratuitous rabbit shot. I have come to know that a rabbit lives around these outbuildings beside my home train station. As I am leaving the platform, I stop to locate the rabbit. Tonight, it was snowing again and the pine tree was dressed up for a picture postcard, and the rabbit was giving me a nice, rabbity profile.
It is a few days before Christmas and some have been moaning about all the snow we’ve gotten already this season and about how kind of cold it’s mostly been. Well, I say, if it’s going to be cold (which it is), it may as well snow (I realized tonight after posting a different missive that I probably use “might” and “may” incorrectly in the context of statements such as the previous. I shall endeavor to do better). Unfortunately, that tripped me up with regard to getting to bowling tonight.
Last Monday, after the roads were well cleared from the seventeen inches of snow we had over the weekend, it took me an hour to make a drive that usually takes me twenty minutes, tops. So today, as five to eight new inches were predicted, with the accumulation culminating during rush hour, aka drive to bowling time, I made the decision early not to drive my four-cylinder, lightweight, manual-transmission econobox in less than ideal conditions.
On the other hand, the snow provides for wonderful visions of Mother Nature at her most beautiful, like in the opening photo, or in the photo above, from this year’s first snow in mid-November. For a day, it was a gorgeous winter wonderland. This is the lovely maple tree that’s in my front yard. It’s a beautiful tree, but it does throw a little too much shade on my gardening efforts in the warm season.
Other than the driving of my own car, which I only have to do twice a week for bowling, not commuting to work, you will be hard-pressed to get me to say negative things about winter. I like it.
I will end by coming full-circle, with what you probably knew would have to creep in at some point. This is one of my two favorite shots I’ve produced so far with Instagram, the latest apply-a-filter app. These are other pine trees next to the train station, taken after the snow we had the first week of December.
Winter is beautiful. Oh, and one time only, I hugged a tree.
Signs of spring
December 11, 2010
This evening, as snowfall begins that’s predicted to be the heaviest in ten years, I thought we’d review some signs of spring and both reminisce about and look forward to happier times.
As soon as it hits 50 or 60F (10 or 15C), it’s time to start eating lunch outside. There’s a nice plaza a block away from my office that gets toasty sunshine on clear days. It’s very refreshing to get outside for a little while, especially when you don’t have to spend ten minutes bundling up to do it.
Whose mood isn’t brightened by the first daffodils to show their yellow sunniness, or the gentle fragrance from a lilac bush wafting in the breeze? Lilacs. Look at that snow. Can you believe it will be six months until we smell their sweet scent again?
If you’re a baseball fan like I am, spring means the start of the regular season. This past year that was particularly meaningful as the Minnesota Twins inaugurated their new outdoor park, Target Field. It true that some of the first games were rather chilly, but it was so fantastic to be outside watching a game with 40,000 of my closest friends. And we know that in just a few months we’ll be sweltering in the dog days of summer.
We will finish our little mood-jogger this evening with beer. You figured I’d get around to something beer related, right? Perhaps my personal favorite sign of spring is when the Bell’s Oberon Ale is released. Even its sunny label says good times are ahead, and while we’re at it, let’s fire up the grill. Oberon pairs very nicely with a delicious, juicy steak and grilled veggies.
Ah, spring.
April 1, 2010
Tasty rainbow
August 17, 2010
I’m not going to go all unicorns and glitter on you, but Friday I was treated to the best rainbow I’ve ever seen. Not because it was double—I’ve seen triple—but because of its altitude and degrees.
My office suite is on an eleventh storey corner. We have pretty good sightlines. From my desk I look to the northwest which is now right across the bow of the Target Field, the new home of the Minnesota Twins baseball team. I can see the left field upper deck from where I sit. With every day game, it is rubbed in my face that I’m stuck at work and 44,000 other people aren’t.
Probably two or three times a day otherwise, I find myself standing at the kitchen window with looks northish over the fairly new Minneapolis Public Library Central Branch (which sports a green roof and is LEED certified), and toward the Mississippi River and iconic Grain Belt Brewery sign. Minneapolis’ Federal Reserve Bank is also in view. There is some interesting public art on its grounds.
But last Friday, it was Mother Nature who was in the spotlight. This has been a pretty hot, humid summer, and the latest stretch was approaching the end of its second week when the second of three quick-succession fronts rolled through.
Being downtown, we quite often don’t get the severe aspect of weather, but this summer we’ve definitely been getting the downpours. Friday we got another one. At one point in college I was a meteorology major. The weather still fascinates me. I look out five windows that look westish while sitting at my desk slaving away. I pay attention.
The cats and dogs had been falling for a good ten or fifteen minutes, but as with many summertime thunderstorms, the sun was poised to quickly follow on the heels of the line of clouds. I knew what was coming.
I stationed myself at the kitchen window and waited. The colored arc began to appear. I had my iPhone at the ready. I was rewarded.
People know I’m excitable anyway. So when I started shrieking “Rainbow! Rainbow!” they didn’t pay too much attention. When I modified it to, “Freaky rainbow! Come look at this! You won’t be sorry!” I got some results.
I figure there were two things at work. First as I said, we’re on the eleventh floor, higher up than my usual rainbow viewing vantage point. And second, I was watching the rain finishing, with the trailing 99% humidity. I was on the front line of rainbow formation, and I was expecting it.
But I wasn’t expecting what I was presented with.
What I first noticed was that the rainbow was low and close. So low and close that while the zenith of the arc was above the library, the ends went behind the corners of the library (look closely at the left-jutting cantilever). And when I followed the left end of the arc, it came around to the street in front of the building kitty corner to mine. It was a 135° degree rainbow. I wasn’t quite coordinated enough to get a photo of that. But other people saw it, too.
I completely understand that some of you looking at this photo are scoffing to yourself that this is just some Photoshop trickery. If I hadn’t witnessed it myself, I’d be skeptical of its authenticity, too.
I have witnesses. Also, take time to notice and appreciate the small things.
Flannel sheets surprise
June 5, 2010
I???ve already extolled the virtues of hot water and the morning shower. I???ve said how I love to sleep and wish I did more of it. If you have pets yourself, you know that they can melt away the day???s troubles with a well-timed purr. That these things make up a feel-good trifecta is no surprise. What does surprise me is that in the suddenly summer weather we???ve been having, my flannel sheets are not too warm.
Mother Nature has been confusing us Minnesotans this spring. I don???t waste time getting the flannel sheets onto the bed in the fall. then we had an early warm spell, so I didn???t waste time taking them off as spring approached. Trouble is, the warm didn???t last for very long and we swung to unseasonably cool temperatures. The flannel sheets make a curtain call. The cool stayed around and the flannel stayed on.
Then, practically overnight, summer made another push into the scene. Being the cynical Minnesotan that I am, it took me a long time to be convinced that it wouldn???t snow again. The flannel sheets stayed on. Then, me being me, when I did laundry, I just put them back on rather than have to fold them up.
It has continued to be summery warm. I have flung open my windows. And I am completely surprised that I haven???t been roasting sleeping in those flannel sheets. I have come to this conclusion: flannel sheets aren???t warmer than regular sheets. They just seem that way in the winter because they???re fuzzy. They aren???t cold to the initial touch when you get into bed. You don???t have to wait for your body heat to warm up the points of contact.
Last fall I was surprised when an online acquaintance who lives in central Illinois???further south, more humid???said that he leaves his flannel sheets on year round. Now I know he???s not crazy!
June 2, 2010
10 things that make me happy
March 1, 2010
This cup of grapefruit juice*
I like orange juice and tomato juice, but I love grapefruit juice!
This lovely sunny day*
It is the last day of February. On days like this, you believe that spring is truly right around the corner, even though it’s Minnesota and you know there could easily still be stretches of sub-freezing temperatures.
Watching my cat spaz out with the twirling rainbows on the wall*
I have solar powered twirling crystals in my south window. Poor Dasie just never figures it out.
Saving 10–15 minutes in the morning by neither combing nor drying my hair*
On February 13, I stopped both combing my hair and giving it the tiny bit of blow drying that I do, just to see what would happen. I am not in the early stages of dreadlocks and my curls twist up less frizzily and more curly. The only downside is that all day I shed the loose hairs that were formerly removed during combing. Having that ten or fifteen extra minutes is well worth it to me.
Classical music on a Sunday afternoon*
In my quest to watch less tv, I have returned to doing something I used to twenty years ago, which is turning on public radio in the morning and enjoying it as the backdrop to the whole day.
How it’s light so much earlier in the morning
I know the time change will soon come and darkness will get another hour of morning time, but for now I’ll enjoy that it’s light when I should be thinking about getting up. It has been light when I do get up all winter …
That my rabbit feels better after having his teeth trimmed a couple of weeks ago
The watery eye has cleared up and Robbin seems to be in a better mood. I can even pet his head, something which he had shied away from for years. Now I know why.
The thought of planning my trip to London
I really must make time to do my tax return so that I can get going on this.
Video chat
It has been very satisfying getting to see people who I would otherwise have no opportunity to interact with “in person.”
Coffee in a paper cup
I don’t know why it is, but I really love drinking coffee from a coffee shop paper cup.
*pictured above
Minnesot-ah: summer hoorah!
February 14, 2010
These photos sum up a lot about Minnesota. There is my Minnesota Twins baseball cap. There is a large fiberglass golden gopher (the state rodent). There is Summit Beer. There is Summit Beer on a stick. It is a gorgeous, sunny day at my perfect temperature of about 75°F/24°C. And all of this is happening at the Great Minnesota Get Together, otherwise known as the Minnesota State Fair.
If the temperature doesn’t go above 80°F, I love summer. If the relative humidity stays reasonable, I’m great. The Twin Cities are full of bike trails, golf courses, festivals, lakes, outdoor bar and restaurant seating, and everything else that takes advantage of our three week summer.
But the climax of the summer that everyone looks forward to is the State Fair. Probably the first thing anyone with experience would tell you is that at the State Fair, you can find just about anything on a stick. Sure, it’s mostly food items, but some non-solids find their way to stickdom, too—just look at my flight of little Summits (that’s Oktoberfest Red Ale, Extra Pale Ale, and Red Ale for those of you keeping track). There is a wide variety of music, exhibits, a sizable midway, and other entertainment. There is a grandstand. There are animals and agriculture. One wing of a building is dedicated to seed art. The Aquatennial Queen (a midsummer festival revolving around the Mississippi River and the many area lakes) has her head carved in butter. Or is that Princess Kay of the Milky Way? The downside to the State Fair is that it also signals the end of summer. It finishes its nearly two-week run on Labor Day (the first Monday in September here in the US). Summer work hours end, the kids go back to school, and you pack away your white clothing. Fortunately, winter doesn’t hit until at least the end of the month.
Kelly’s Unnecessary Blog 