Gimme heat by Peggy Walton
From the January 26, 1994 edition of The New Castle Record
As we break free from the icy shell which entombed many Craig families in their homes for what seemed like a lifetime, a little contemplation of ice seems appropriate.
I had the chance to walk on water with the Forest Service last week, as signs warning skaters away from deep ponds with inviting icy crusts were posted at Fenwick Mines. Several inches of snow covering the ice allowed us to take a hardy walk without the fear of falling, and also made the mines look like a crystal desert untouched by man or woman…. until we left hundreds of footprints circling the skateable ponds.
The chance to rid ourselves of cabin fever drove many people to trek to surrounding cities once the roads were drivable. One New Castle Resident tried to recuperate from a week-long imprisonment inside her home by driving all the way to Salem with dreams of warmth and shopping in her head, only to find all the parking lots were coated with inches of rock-hard ice.
Those of us who had to work through the Big Chill found that people can get nasty after staying cooped up for days and weeks on end. After sliding sideways down an icy incline while driving a co-worker home one night, and subsequently ramming a pole and mashing my tin can car, I found myself at a repair shop in Salem. The waiting room was bustling, filled with caffeine junkies who wanted their cars fixed NOW so they didn’t have to watch one more morning game show with a bunch of people who had done nothing but watch television all week long.
Men walked in circles, sipping coffee and getting hot at the help when another five minutes has passed by and their automobile was not ready to go. A woman’s chortle sent the room in a tizzy, as laughter was not allowed. The guy up front described the typical person he had to deal with throughout the week as a big bulldog that has been locked up on a chain for days on end. As soon as the beast breaks free of the chain, it will bark at anything that moves.
“They’re all barking at me,” he said.
I saw someone yesterday who was walking around in shorts, since the 50-degree weather –a 60-degree jump in temperature over the last week—felt like summer to people who remembered their hands becoming devoid of feeling as their entire bodies froze trying to start a dead car in minus-6-degree weather.
Being trapped inside my place has driven me to do the unthinkable…house cleaning. I’ve vacuumed dusted, swept the floor, stacked things in neat little piles… at one point I actually got down I my hands and knees and picked up individual pieces of lint from the carpet, which is now so clean I’m frightened to look at it.
I propose a mass exodus of scantily clad people freeing themselves of their thermal underwear, running down Main Street in protest of the Antarctic week we just suffered through. Man, I am ready for spring.
-Prepared by Shelly Koon
