At nine o'clock at night on January 2nd it was minus 20 with the wind, minus 2 temp and getting colder.
Europeans, these temps are in Fahrenheit.
It is my birthday. Sigh, in my entire life, I have only had one party because there were either 14 inches of snow on the ground, or ice storms, or freezing fog. Even when I lived in England for ten years in the '80s and '90s, the weather was less than perfect.
Oh well, this is Iowa; it could be International Falls, Minnesota, which gets much colder.
As I am not having a cake, I share this one with my readers.
Today is the Feast of St. Genevieve. I had an Aunt Genevieve, and narrowly escaped being named Genevieve.
This saint saved Paris from Attila the Hun, which was a great blessing for all. She did this by encouraging the people of the city to fast, to do penance, to pray. I like sheep, so I am pleased that she was a shepherdess.
She seems to have been a consecrated virgin.
She is the chief patron of the City of Paris.
But, I would never want to be called Jennabean in school, would you?
The name means "white wave" and may be an ancient name from Galatia. Perhaps a Genevieve of old heard the Epistle to the Galatians read in her church. Perhaps because I was born on her day, she helped me with my sea-poem last year, which one can find under the label poetry.
St. Genevieve lived to be 89, which is also a great feat. May St. Genevieve bless us all with courage today.
In addition, as I just got one card, which is usual, as no one remembers a birthday two days after New Year's Day, I am giving myself and you readers a card.
