For the past few days we have been in a deep freeze, hit with freezing rain and snow, and the temp staying just below freezing. I was once used to this kind of weather. Many years ago, the winters on the Texas plains were I grew up were "bone-chilling" cold, sometimes freezing newborn calves born in the pastures, and ignorant chickens who escaped the warm confines of their coop, and insisted on roosting in the trees.
I remember several occasions when I rode with my dad in the tattered old ranch truck, searching every nook and cranny of the pastures for newborn or sick calves. If some were found, they were carefully loaded into the back of the truck, wrapped in old horse blankets, and taken to the house, where the garage, more blankets, and an old propane heater awaited. Happy to say, we saved more than we lost.
Anyway---
It's been several years since we've had that kind of winter; my body has become accustomed to the balmy 60 degree F. winters we now have, so the freezing weather was a shock to these bones.
The rabbit hutch--where Seth's 4H bunnies live--had a heat lamp installed, and the outside of the hutch was wrapped in tarp. Every day, while we froze our behinds off feeding them, the darling "Bunny Foo-Foo" family basked in their warm home.
My family spent time on the couch, cuddled together, enjoying pots of coffee, bowls of soup, and old movies.
Now, the temp registers a whopping 43 degrees, and we're happy for the heat wave.
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When I speak, a twangy, Texas accent--of course--comes out of my mouth. Through the years, it's gotten better; but when I'm tired, it's more pronounced, making it a nightmare for some people to understand some words.
Several years ago, I was a dispatcher for a local sheriff's department. One stormy, winter night, at 3am, I took a call from a distressed woman, who was worried about her new car parked in her drive, and the possibility of hail.
"I don't know that information, but if you'll hold, I'll find out," I promised. "Business" was at a standstill because of the weather, and we were happy to get any sort of call.
Turning to Lisa, my fellow dispatcher for the evening, I asked if she knew about the possibility of hail [ H-A-I-L].
Just having moved from Pennsylvania, she was fairly new to our department, but we had worked together quite often, and functioned well as a team.
"What?" she asked, wrinkling her brow in confusion.
"Is it going to hail?"
"What? I can't understand you."
"Is. . .it. . .going. . .to. . .hail?" I asked, losing patience by the second.
"Are we going to HELL? What kind of call are you taking?"
"No. H...A...I...L. HAIL!"
"Oh, it's your accent," Lisa giggled. "I thought you were saying HELL. No, according to the last teletype, we aren't."
Taking the phone off hold, I apologized to the lady for the wait, and assured her that there was no hail in the forecast. Lisa gave me heck over that incident for months.
Good thing I depend on writing rather than speaking; I'd be in trouble.
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