January 5: Deep Freeze Combat

I’m an Iowan. I’ve dabbled at living elsewhere but this is my home and I boomerang back every time I attempt to leave. As for many, it took leaving my state to make me love it. Iowa is often a whispered experience that requires a still heart to absorb fully.

We have a social culture that is ideal for raising a family. People are kind here. We aren’t always direct. We've been taught it’s not polite to be, and so there’s a lot of talking behind the hand that occurs. I don’t think it’s poorly intended but just the passive aggressive result of not learning to say it straight. We are a collective family in many ways. Example? If a child were to run toward the street, every person between the child and the street would collectively ‘own” stopping that child. If you drop money on the ground, it will find its way back to you. Everyone knows someone who is from <insert any random small town here> and it creates an instant bond between strangers. I adore my daughter’s school that repeatedly wows me. We take pride in our homes and our communities. Our landscapes have a quiet beauty that is subtle, but more beautiful for it. Each season brings a visual feast. The earth SMELLS like home to me. I am tangibly Iowan.

I could expound upon my love for Iowa for pages. But this is not a love post. Because today my state feels more like Antarctica than Iowa. Tonight’s low will be -16 degrees, without wind chill. Jack Frost has graced all the windows in my old Craftsman. It is bitterly cold.

I adore our four seasons. I truly do. But on days like today, there is nothing for it. I have to mentally escape my beloved home. To do this, I've taken a few basic steps.

1) I've moved my tropical umbrella wreath into my living room (finally putting away my Santa clock for the season). 

2) I'm drinking lemonade in a sugar dipped glass (and yes, I've brought out my crazy straw). Wreathed in leis to remind me of warmer times. Watching the winter birds visit my feeder and considering bringing them indoors. Then considering my two cats and re-considering.

3) Jack Johnson, baby. 

Jack Johnson - Bubble Toes

Grab a drink (crazy straw optional) and come dance with me!