Cold Air

A record cold snap arrived Monday night.

It is still 60 degrees warmer than it is in North Dakota where my nephew and cousin are working.

But...this South Dakota raised girl has never been so cold.

The houses here are generally not insulated (I won't even tell you about the windows.) My home is built on a concrete slab (as most here are because basements don't belong in earthquake country where the water table is high) on which the wood flooring lies.

Then my forced air furnace grates are in the 8 feet ceiling or even higher in the cathedral ceilings.

Just for the record air, warm air does not sink, so my house is really, really cold.

The floor is like ice. I dug out my wool socks (that I use for playing in the snow).

In the North folks build their homes to withstand the cold, so with the warmth of a fire or furnace, it is nice and toasty inside. On a really cold night the corners might be drafty.

Since the cold has infiltrated every inch of my house and every inch of my being, it is time for a nice pot of stew to simmer on the stove.

Then a few minutes before serving, I grab my potato flakes and pause...

I remember the first time I watched my grandmother grab a box and shake it into her pot of stew. I was horrified! Instant potatoes?? Well, she patiently explained it was the perfect thickener because flour tends to be clumpy and unpredictable.

She was right. Potato flakes guarantee perfect consistency and the best stew.

As the cold infiltrates, I warm my heart with memories and food.

Anyway, my feet are numb.