Sunday, December 14, 2025 – Day 488

Sunday, December 14, 2025

Good morning, everyone.
11 days until Christmas. 🎄

Yesterday, Cindy cleared out the furniture from the main floor that would hinder the wheelchair, with some much-needed muscle from Mike H. Where did it all go? The basement…where everything eventually ends up. I’m honestly surprised there was room, although I have no idea what the basement hoarder’s den looks like anymore. I haven’t been down there in nearly a year. No matter. Today, the power chair…aka The Beast…is coming into the house. I know I’ve been threatening to do this for a while; I just didn’t want to rush moving into this stage.

Late yesterday afternoon, I suddenly started having trouble breathing and had to hook up the respirator. It came on quickly. Too much talking? Dry air from the fireplace? Dehydration? I’m not sure. Whatever the cause, I headed upstairs around 5:30 p.m. and stayed there for the night. I feel fine this morning—it’s just something to note and pay attention to.

The Bears are home today, with kickoff temperatures around 9°F and a wind chill pushing –6°F. It won’t be the coldest game on record, but that hardly matters. Cold like this doesn’t need a record…it just needs a couple of minutes. It works its way in slowly, numbing first, then hurting in a way that feels almost life-threatening.

I know this because forty years ago, in 1985, I was at the Bears–Giants playoff game in similar conditions. Great game. Best football team ever. Still, it was a miserable experience. I’ve never been colder in my life. I remember sitting in the stands, shivering nonstop, fingers aching, legs bouncing uncontrollably, convinced that if I stopped moving I might actually freeze in place. Taking shots of peppermint schnapps did absolutely nothing to help the cause.

When the game ended and we finally made it back to the car, we just sat there—heater blasting—staring at our hands and feet like we were doing a post-game frostbite assessment. The only sounds were chattering teeth and the fan on max effort, taking far too long to push out anything resembling warm air. We just sat there moaning, because the thawing hurt almost as much as the freezing.

I remember thinking, Never again.
And I haven’t.

Everybody, have a great Sunday. I’ll be watching the Bears from the couch—or maybe from The Beast, if it’s thawed out. Love you guys! ❤️

Photos

More random photos from Ft. Lauderdale in 2012. I was playing a swim official…that’s partly why I’m dressed so fashionably.