It's 15 below zero. Not Celsius, not windchill. And I have no access to a treadmill today, so if I'm going to run, it's outside. It's rough today in Uffdastan.
[I've renamed the states. Wisconsin=Keggerstan, South Dakota=Flyoverstan, North Dakota=Stan.]
I ran yesterday at 0 degrees; 9 miles. This running thing is not much fun here right now. And the house is still full of food, just asking to be eaten, telling me my resolution isn't strong enough.
Finished my first book of the year, though: The Oregon Trail by Francis Parkman. Didn't think I'd like it, but the first half was entertaining; it never occurred to me that there's nothing to hitch your horse to between the Missouri River and the Rocky Mountains (the rawhide strap used to hobble the horses got eaten by wolves). Last book of 2009 was Suttree by Cormac McCarthy, which I really enjoyed and which got me thinking about my own life - not that I'm not introspective by nature as it is! I also saw my lifetime book list is missing 10 titles: The Rover and Other Plays by Aphra Behn, Roman Sonnets by Giuseppi Belli, The Baron in the Trees by Italo Calvino (I love Calvino), Les Enfants Terribles by Jean Cocteau, Montcalm and Wolfe by Francis Parkman (honest, I'd never heard of Parkman and here he is again), Description of Greece by Pausanias, The Secret History by Procopius, Praeterita by John Ruskin, Letters by Vincent Van Gogh, Cyropaedia by Xenophon. That's seven languages, I think.
Going up the country
20 hours ago