Breaking Free

Yep, there's still snow

I walk. A lot. A whole lot. I walk for lots of reasons, not the least of which is for the clarity and peace of mind it brings me.

Because of the snow and bitter temperatures I wrote about in my last post, I have been housebound for days. Oh, I get out and away in the car to run errands or visit my father, things like that. But at a personal level, I am housebound, not daring to risk my wrist (or worse) in a fall on ice. As a result, I last walked on January 24.

Until today.

Today I broke out. Warren teaches on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, and I hazarded a guess that Ohio Wesleyan would have clear walks on its campus. So when he left for class, I rode along with him, hoping to walk.

My guess was correct; my hopes were realized. The campus walkways were clear.

I walked all around campus. I walked to a nearby CVS to pick up some items for my dad. From there, I walked back downtown (crossing campus again) to the library. I was impeded by my choosing to err on the side of caution and wear my winter boots, but I walked all the same. I took a break at our library, then walked back to OWU to meet Warren. All in all, I walked for 70-some minutes, pure heaven.

I learned a few important things from my walking today. (1) The core downtown is pretty good—not perfect, but darn close—when it comes to cleared sidewalks, which means I could wear my Hokas next time, which would make my feet a lot happier. (2) It is all but impossible to cross Sandusky at Harrison  to get to CVS on foot (My, what Big Snow Piles we have!) and I will not gamble on doing that again until the snow melts, which is probably weeks from now. 

Don't get me wrong. There is plenty to keep me happily occupied at home, besides being here with my favorite person in the world, who is also usually here. While at the library, I grabbed a jigsaw puzzle from the Take One/Leave One shelves. I have books, I have baking, I have Justice Bus this week, I have letters to write. Life is good. 

But dang, it was wonderful to break free today! 

Life In the Icebox

A lot of this country is experiencing record-breaking snowfalls and cold temperatures. I cannot begin to match my friend Tani in Minneapolis, but central Ohio has not been a cakewalk. Let's just say that I have been pretty housebound—albeit not entirely housebound—since last Saturday. 

The snow came in mostly on Sunday, with our area getting 11+ inches. A lot of other places got a lot more snow, but they can keep that record. The bigger issue here is the extreme cold. Way cold. Again, other places are colder, but it is no small deal when the morning temperature is -7, as it was yesterday.

And that was not the coldest place we were yesterday. Warren does business with a small metal plating shop in Piqua, Ohio, and had bars to pick up. We drove over yesterday morning, leaving here around 6:30 a.m. and arriving there just before 8:00. The roads were in pretty decent shape (we took US 36 over); drivers were nonetheless driving carefully. ODOT trucks were dropping salt on the highway the farther west we went. 

Our car tracks the outside temperature and is usually within one or two degrees of any electronic board showing the temperature. So we watched it as we drove: -7, -3, -11. -8. The temps went up and down often in response to whether we were near water, for example, or passing by a large field. When we got to our destination, the temperature read -16.

-16.

And that was without any wind chill. 

In short, pretty darn cold. 

We had deliberately planned to stop for breakfast at a small diner, The Farmer's Daughter, that we have passed each time we make the trip to Piqua. The diner is on the main street of Urbana, Ohio, a small community we keep telling ourselves we need to come back and explore one of these days. (Not right now, trust me.) After getting the bars loaded, we headed east and to breakfast.

We had suspected the diner was either a community hub or had excellent food or both. It was both. Breakfast was excellent and plentiful. I enjoyed watching diners coming in and greeting one another and exchanging talk about the temperatures, what was closed, how they were staying warm. As all schools in most of the state are closed because of the extreme temperatures, parents and children or parents and teens also came in, adding to the talk. It was the kind of place where regulars were comfortable stepping into the coffee/drink area to chat with a staffer. 

And it was the kind of place where the owners recognized they had an older clientele and had handicap grab bars in both of the bathroom stalls in the women's bathroom. Be still my heart! 

When the waitress brought us our bill and asked us how the food was, we praised everything. She talked about how much of their baked goods they do right next door in a bakery the diner owns. I commented on the sourdough toast I had ordered with my plate, adding I had chosen it because I bake too. She lit up. "We're looking for a part-time baker," she said, laughing because she knew how far we had come that morning. "Might be a bit of a drive..."

 Yep, might be. But as I told Warren as we drove home, if we did live in Urbana, I'd be tempted to apply for that job. Not because I need to earn income, not because I am bored with my life, but because being part of that community would be fun. 

While I finish typing this, the sun is shining brightly. Our backyard, which I can view out my second floor study window, is a long wash of shining snow and tree shadows. It is 18 out, a veritable heat wave. But worry not, that's only for now. Predicted low tonight? -6.

Life in the icebox continues.

Words

Plangently.

Sedulous.

Encomia.

Numinous.

I read a lot. A. Lot. I have always read a lot, starting in first grade when the scales fell from my eyes and I had that Helen Keller moment of connecting the print on the page to the word in my head. (In The Miracle Worker, the magic word for Helen was "water." For me, it was "ask.") Once that happened, I went right on reading. And reading. And reading. Even now, most years I read over 200 books annually. 

One of those books this year is The Island: War and Belonging in Auden's England, which traces poet W. H. Auden's life from childhood until he leaves England in 1937 at age 30. I began it last night. Given my proclivity to read A. LOT, I was a bit taken aback that I was only on page 75 (and that does not count the 35 pages of Prologue by author Nicholas Jenkins) and already had the four words above scribbled down to look up. That was last night; this morning I pulled out my Webster's Dictionary and set it on the coffee table as I suspect I will be needing it more.

I am only familiar with the older, post-England, urbane, slick Auden. This book has already opened a whole new way for me to view him and his writing. (Heck, just reading the chronology from birth until he leaves England in 1937 opened new vistas.) 

And apparently reading this book is going to make new additions to my mental dictionary.

Plangently.

Sedulous.

Encomia.

Numinous.

After Four: Wrapping Up Grocery Spending in 2025

Back at the end of September, I updated our grocery spending for 2025 year-to-date and expressed the hope that we come in at year's end spending an average of $200/month. We were right at an average of $195.00/month after three quarters and we at least had a shot at hitting that mark.

The numbers are in and while we did not hit the $200/month average, we came in pretty darn close at a monthly average of $208.31. If we had spent about $100 less last year (the entire year, not just per month), we would have hit the $200.00 mark just about dead on.

So what did the fourth and final quarter of 2025 hold both in savings and in spending? 

On the non-food front—things like dish soap, toilet paper, tissue—we spent a staggering $49.72, or about 7% of our overall spending in this final quarter. To put that percentage into perspective, realize that in all of 2025, non-food items amounted to 4.5% of the total amount. So what happened in the fourth quarter to shoot that percentage up? Three major purchases is what happened: toilet paper, bleach, and trash bags for the kitchen waste container. Given that we had not purchased trash bags for over 15 months (because after buying them for my dad's apartment at Assisted Living, it turns out that he did not need them, so they came home with me), I can't be too disappointed to see that expense. Toilet paper: it is what it is. The price of bleach, though, had risen enough since last purchased (two years ago, maybe?) that I made mention of it in my spending notes.

Our food items were pretty much the usual, with the total spent in this final quarter coming out to $739.45. That was the highest quarter grocery costs in all of 2025, but not staggeringly surprising given the higher food prices we are seeing here. A few specific items caught my eye and I noted them in the running accounts I keep. We purchased Sucralose this quarter, the first time in months, and I winced at the price jump. One very recent jump that also caught my attention was the cost of a gallon of milk: it took a 20¢ hike in one week a few weeks ago. Ouch! And it has not come down! Ouch again! 

And one other category added to the overall costs this quarter: we annually make several major holiday treats, and those added to the overall costs. Those treats? Biscotti, Hyer peanut brittle, and, for a second year in a row, Kringle. Kringle made its first appearance in our holiday lineup last year and we brought it back for a second year. We made four total this year: two for our closest neighbors, one for our household, and one to take with us when visiting family last weekend. We make it with frozen puff pastry, and even on sale, those boxes (one per Kringle) ran almost $5.00 per box. Add in the frozen berries at $11.99 (enough to make 5 or even 6 Kringle with) and you are looking at $32.00. We also did some holiday "snacky" purchases, anticipating time spent with family and friends, and those items—cheeses, salami, crackers, (more) cookies, chocolates—came to $35.00, or about two-thirds of the $100 that would have brought our monthly average in at $200.00. 

A 2024 Kringle but trust me, the 2025 ones looked the same! 

But you know what? Neither Warren nor I regret a single bit (or bite, for that matter) of those "extra" expenses. We take great joy in making them (I do the biscotti, Warren and his son David do the brittle, and Warren and I do the Kringle) and even greater joy in sharing them. 

So I close the books on 2025 feeling pretty satisfied overall. Looking ahead to our 2026 spending, I cannot help but wonder what food costs will look like. I doubt that any of us see any sweeping drops at the checkout. But, as Warren and I remind ourselves, we are fine. Our freezer is well-stocked, we are not extravagant eaters (no lobster here), and we take pleasure in cooking simple, filling meals.

Life is good. I hope 2026 will be so too.