A friend of mine who seems to have developed an addiction to cross-country skiing told me about it a couple of days ago and just like with almost everything else, I was, of course, ready to try it. It sounded cool! But then that negative 1 F that was supposed to feel like -23 F (which is something like below -30 C) completely made me forget about any outdoor activity. Just walking that morning from home to my unofficial office, the Java House, got me crying against the stinging wind while my entire body acknowledged unmistakably the meaning of the “wind chill” factor. The five minutes walk (that’s all it takes) felt like an expedition to Antarctica, and I really wished I had removable ears so that I could put them in the pocket temporarily, just like I did with my frozen glasses. I realized later that it was not the frozen glasses that prevented me from seeing, it was the instantly iced tears – but who cared what’s icing where, I was only thinking about the hot coffee I was going to get as soon as I was going to make it there.
The tall cup of Mexican Altura got my brain back into functioning, and by lunch time, as I was thinking I’m not eager to go outside again, my friend called to ask me if I’m up for my first cross-country skiing experience. I thought he’s kidding. He was not. I hesitated a bit, came up with some excuses, but five minutes later I was out the door running home to get ready for the challenge.
They say cross-country skiing is the best aerobic fitness activity. Well, it must be, because as soon as I got back to my warm room I felt just like after drinking a few too many glasses of steaming mulled red wine (which I was actually longing for at the end of our little adventure): a cozy sensation of slow thinking and lazy moves that could have put me to sleep immediately… I took instead one of my typical suspiciously long showers and somehow succeeded to get myself back out in the cold, because I have committed to one of those get-togethers with a friend – something I enjoy too much to be able to skip. Still no mulled wine, but the spices of the cinnamon cardamom tea did the trick and what was supposed to be a very cold and unfriendly Sunday ended up being a very warm, surprisingly pleasant one. In other words, perfect lemonade, if we stick to the lemon’s story.
Try it one day. It will be fun – the cross-country skiing I mean. With regard to the lemons, well, it’s good advice to make lemonade when you have them. But today I was thinking: how much lemonade one can drink? What if I’m tired of it? Well, there are other things you can do with lemons - among them, you can squeeze them hard to have the juice pop into someone’s eyes, just like my landlady did yesterday when I complained about the failing internet connection. But I don’t recommend this one, some of that acid juice might end up in your eyes as well, and it’s no fun. (By the way, I’m writing this from home, we have a new router, so don’t think my landlady is not a nice lady. We eventually made lemonade. I just had to add some sugar, that's all.)Anyway, if you only get lemons or just way too many of them, you might be in some citrus country: look at a map, one that’s appropriate for your world, figure out where sweet cherries grow, and make a move. Or keep making grimaces and pulling all sorts of faces, if that suits you…
That being said, I have to take care of some of my lemons right now – hopefully I can turn them into some sort of lemon tea, because it’s still cold in Iowa… maybe another session of cross-country skiing is in order? Sure, but I’m still thinking I should go to Puerto Rico for the upcoming spring break...
