I usually walk with my wonderful friend and neighbor Carol on Friday mornings, but I put my big toe out the door this morning (while still in my pajamas, of course) and decided it was not only a No, but that I was going to go back inside, turn on my fireplace, and make some hot chocolate.
It made me think about my fellow humans who live in the frozen tundra of places like Minnesota and, you know, the Arctic. I'm feeling lucky and blessed this morning that I live in Las Vegas and can be put off by a little wind and a 36 degree morning. In colder climates, I might be grateful for a balmy 36 degrees. Thank you Mohave Desert! Thank you J.T. McWilliams (the man who laid out the original plans for what is now Historic West Las Vegas). Thank you Rafael Rivera, a member of the Spanish explorer Antonio Armijo trading party, who passed by our valley on his way to Los Angeles and blessed us with the fabulous Las Vegas name. Thank you Lake Mead. Thank you Bertha Eaton Raffetto, who wrote Home Means Nevada, our state song.
I smiled recalling my daughter Chelsea, who attended Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska, calling me during a wintry day her first year to say, "People know there are other places to live, right?" She's my desert girl!