The thermometer reading seemed stuck on 32.2 degrees for days. First I thought the temps are holding nice and steady – but when The Weatherpeople noted a drop into the 20’s, I decided to gather an expedition and look for our aberrant sensor.

What I found was an empty space on the small shelf outside where I expected to find it. Dormant underneath was a thick rolling landscape of ice, partially hidden by a cover of snow, on top of the rough granite counter. Through the  snow-rain-snow-thaw-freeze-snow cycles, the sensor, it seemed, had been deeply embedded, embalmed and encased in the safety and steady temperatures of a personal sized suburban glacier.

I did my best – no amount of hammering, chiseling, or screwdrivering was going to free it. I was about to walk out the door with a hair dryer and an extension cord when The Brunette stopped me. My obsessiveness can sometimes go too far.

For the time being, our published temperature will remain the same until the battery – or winter – runs out. Climate change will cease to exist.

Only one thing left to do on this rare day off…with more snow predicted tonight…

books life Jonathan Wolstenholme Books on Books
 illustrated series
by Jonathan Wolstenholme