These pictures were October 30, but. .

Brrr, I am cold just thinking about traveling through the mountain pass to the desert side of Washington. I still associate deserts with heat, not cold. Well, the temps where we are heading are in the single digits. I assume my thin leather gloves and blue jeans won't get it. (Not much of an assumption since they don't get it in the 30's either.) So, we have to do some quick shopping tonight. . . We do have ski pants at least - and wicking layer - but not that layer in between -- except for jeans. . . I'm more concerned with my feet! When we walked around in the teens in that last storm, even with the sock liner and thick wool socks and hiking boots my feet got cold first. This is a work trip for him, so most of the room in the van will be taken up with work supplies. . . and I will be filling what little room is left with spare jackets and gloves and blankets and food and water, and weather radio and batteries, and so on. . . (and on)

I suppose I should pack a spare bag for the gloves, scarf, hat and last jacket layer, and the camera -- so when I toss them all at Leon as I race through the single digit temps into the rest stop bathroom because I missed the last one, I can just toss them in the bag slung over his shoulder and he won't have to get cold hands trying to hold it all. . . 'cause there is NO WAY I am dragging all that stuff in a public restroom or leave it WAY over in the car when I can use him as a hall tree. . . so to speak. . .

He loves me. . . he loves me not. . . he loves me. . . and besides, he knew he married a wimp 32.5 years ago. . . and he is the one who thought an RV with marine toilet was unnecessary. . .