It’s cold here now. Really cold. (I’ve heard, though, that it gets colder. I know, what was I expecting? I moved to Vienna.) This is the kind of cold I’ve only had a passing acquaintance with — as in, once every few years of my life I’ve experienced cold like this, only for a few moments, on the way from my house to my car or my car to wherever I was going, and on very few occasions, for longer — when I would have to do something for one of the horses at the barn (but I usually avoided the barn when it was this cold).
It’s been below freezing here for days (I think we brought the cold weather back with us from Innsbruck) but on top of that, it’s windy. Very windy. The wind in Vienna is impressive — there are times I’ve been sure that our whole apartment is going to blow off the top of our building (hasn’t happened yet). Tonight, walking home from my hour out by myself, the wind picked up and I was frozen — the cold cut through my coat and my wool sweater (I thought I was bundled up, but not enough) and froze my face instantly. All of my exposed skin hurt, tears immediately welled in my eyes and I found I couldn’t blink. It’s really cold.
But the frigidity outside makes me all the more grateful for the contrast I have to come home to. It’s warm and cozy in my house. Our radiators insure that we’re toasty warm (now that we know how to let the air out of them) and it actually sometimes gets a little too hot in here during the day, and I have to crack a window (even when it’s about 28 outside).
Plus, I have my sweet kids to come home to. I came in this evening, and they both came running up to me, arms stretched wide, ready for big hugs and kisses. That’s enough to make anyone feel happy, warm and cozy, whatever the weather.