Mono Monday : : Cold

 My friend Tobi , who lives even farther out in the country than we do, invited me to see her new chicken coop today. I have decided to change my car radio to a classical music station for the time being, and It was a lovely drive past vineyards and pastures of grazing horses and meadows full of happy looking cows accompanied by the strains of a Mozart sonata. It was still early and the sun slanted through the trees which cast their long shadows across the road.  Tthe grass seeds, which had been hibernating all summer, were awakened by the near record rains in early October and the hills are a beautiful emerald green.

The six chickens, their names painted on decorative pieces of wood,  have a most luxurious coop, filled with branches fashioned into structures resembling a children's playground upon which they can perch, and a pull down seat upon which Tobi can perch so that her chickens can jump into her lap to be stroked like cats. The dog doesn't like it much and runs around the outside of the coop barking, but the chickens are unphased.

It was my turn to go to the store today, and as usual, I forgot my jacket. I always wear a jacket when I go too the store because there are so many open cold cases and even freezers, presumably for ease of selection and removal of items. I really have no difficulty opening a door to remove my container of Greek yogurt, ice cream or beer, and it seems like a great waste of energy to chill the entire store, but nobody asked me for my opinion.

I could make veiled comments about a president-elect who is a 'climate change denier' here, but I'm trying to take the high road since I am still in denial myself...not about the climate but about the election, so I pushed my cart up and down the aisles humming a scrap of Mozart and feeling my core temperature dropping.

The woman in my picture came fully prepared for the freezing conditions inside the store, so I snapped a picture of her as she studied the vast array of yogurt. When I got back to the car, the thermometer said 72 degrees (F)., and I sat for a moment thawing out in the warmth of the sun reflected through the windshield.