It was 19°F outside when I went into the chapel at 5:30 a.m. for Morning Prayer, and it didn’t seem much warmer inside! By the time I began Mass at 6:00 a.m. the heater had done enough so I could no longer see my breath, but I have to admit that I wasn’t feeling much in my fingers. After Mass, that first cup of coffee certainly tasted (and felt) very good indeed.
Having lived in south Texas for more than forty years, my New England Yankee blood has sufficiently thinned so that I really do feel the cold. As a boy on the farm in Connecticut I always looked forward to winter, and the more snow the better, but now temperatures below freezing are best endured while looking out the window.
