Forty below isn't all fun and games, square tires and squeaky snow. It really wears on a girl. The thermometer has made it above 40 twice in the past week, and I've made it further than the outhouse exactly as many times in as many days.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't going a bit crazy.
P has had to spend lots of time in town, because the hotel/bar that he owns is old and not very well equipped for these temperatures. There have been pipes freezing and fuses blowing on a daily basis. So while he heads in to keep the business from imploding, I'm left out here, keeping the fire stoked and the baby entertained.
In my experience up here, it doesn't matter what kind of heat source you've got, nor what kind of abode you call home, 40 below makes for a cold house. It's hard to fully relax in this weather, always tensed against the chill air creeping along the floors, the outside walls, the windowsills. Cold waits for me in my bed between the sheets. It sneaks into the house on the backs of the dogs, hiding in their fur and rolling off them in waves. It finds a way. It's wily, that cold...
"They" say it's supposed to warm up by Monday or Tuesday. And by warm up, I mean to 30 below.
After a week (or more) at 40, you'd be surprised how balmy minus 30 can feel.