More Cold Stuff

The other night, my husband was on the way home from work. It was a late night for him, and suddenly, in the middle of nowhere, he got a flat tire. 

He had to wait for roadside assistance and stand about while they changed it - all in in 7 degree weather. As in, SEVEN.

When we were newly married, we moved to Chicago so he could get his MBA. He was going to school, and I was working to support us as a teacher in a local elementary school. We were in student housing and were first-year students, so of course we couldn't get parking privileges. 

I used to leave the dorms, walk across the street to the garage, and get into the truck to leave for work.

Now, Chicago is cold. The wind whips off that lake through the city and chills everything, including Wrigley Field (great place to watch a game, btw.) I used to bring my sweatshirt everywhere in the middle of August.

Still, all was well and dandy until the day came when the temp was -17. Funny thing - turns out when it's that cold, your gasline freezes. Who knew? 

Chicagoans knew, that's who. When I phoned the school to tell them I would have to miss my first class, their reaction was one of astonishment. "You didn't put in gasline antifreeze? But this is winter! In Chicago!"

See that shady corner on the left? People are freezing there. 

Lesson learned.

And when we flew out for winter break and couldn't make it back because twenty inches of snow fell, closing the airport, was school cancelled? Not at all. Whip out the chains! Get to work, you lily-livered Easterner!

We adored Chicago, and I'd go back in a heartbeat. They have cool jazz, hot Bratwurst, and my favorite baseball stadium in the world. But I have to tell you - pack a sweatshirt.