Nampa v. Tampa

There was ice on the creek this morning. Ice. In Tampa. Ice. And the wind cutting through my coat made me wish I'd held on to those hole-ly long johns just one more year (they were in one of the bins Flamingo Joe made me go through six months ago). It felt like Nampa, Idaho outside today.

That's Nampa, Idaho. Though I never saw that part of Nampa, I only saw (and smelled) the sugar beet factory on my way to the strip mall where the Fashion Bug waited for me six days a week. But Nampa, Idaho was cold -- and the wind was always blowing and it cut like a knife.

(It's 9:45 p.m. and Mace just got himself out of bed, turned on the lights in his room and came in here. He was very pleased with himself until I took him back to his room, unplugged the lamp and made him get back in his bed. He fell right to sleep, but he will probably be back in here at 1:30 or 4:30, but certainly no later than 5:30. Joe just said, "Maybe we should put the crib back in there." Ummm . . . you'll have to get it from that nice lady we gave it to last week, honey, so that's not really a workable plan.)

So -- it's going to be 23 degrees tonight. It's going to 25 in Nampa. I should have covered the plants last night, so there's no real point in covering them tonight. Or tomorrow night, when it's going to be 25. It's going to be 31 in Nampa. Nampa is starting to look balmy.