Freezing Was Predicted

Freezing was predicted again last light, so we hunkered down under our many comforters, expecting another morning of hose-thawing. It only dropped to 36º, mercifully, but it’s raining hard out there and now it’s just 38º and not expected to get any better all day. The maritime museum we’d hoped to see today is scattered throughout 18 buildings, and the prospect of trudging through cold rain just doesn’t light us up.

I rejoice for this area, though. They’ve been struggling with drought. Yesterday, we saw a golf course, parched to a dead, buff color, and the streams that meander through marshes have dropped at least a foot below their grassy mud flats. They need this rain.

This is a good day to rest, pack, and catch up on email. We’ll make a crock-pot of fish chowder to warm the ePod’s atmosphere. As I write this, Sprocket has put his front paws on my knee, ‘beaming’ me with an imperative gaze. Guessing his message, I put him up in the windowsill by my elbow, where he got the shivers earlier this morning. Being so little, he chills down about as fast as a steamed head of broccoli. I’ve given him my fleece vest, but the single-glazed window is cold, and if I had any sense, I’d pull the curtain on the dismal view. Now he’s softly wuffing at two wet people making their distant way across the lanes of puddled cement pads to one of the big ‘white box’ rigs.

Today, we’re the only ‘silver twinkie’ in the park. Ray Lynch’s ‘No blue Thing’ has been bubbling happily out of our speakers, and the furnace just kicked on. Can Spring be that far away? Ah, a Haydn CD just came on. Surely its stately measures will usher in the sun.

Nope, no sun and the rain keeps splatting on the roof. We’re heading out tomorrow morning to the Outer Banks of NC. The plan is a stop at Kitty Hawk, then on to our next campground at Rodanthe in the Cape Hatteras National Seashore where it’s supposed to be a bit warmer with some sun. We’ll see.

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