We were still in bed when I reached out the window and broke the icicle off the roof.
It was much longer than I thought and immediately started to melt in my warm hand, the icy water running down my arm.
I showed it to Jon. Suddenly we had a two and a half-foot long icicle in bed with us.
His reaction was quiet, not sure what to make of it. Later he would say living with me was like being in that roller coaster park we went to once. Up and down, you just never knew what might happen next.
I broke off about three inches from the thin, pointed end of the icicle and put it in my mouth. Then tossed the rest of it out the window into the snow. It was so sharp, it could have easily cut my tongue. Sucking on it, I drank the ice-cold water as it melted in my morning mouth, soothing my dry throat. Bringing the outside in.
This was all only possible because Jay took out the old wooden screen, which had been painted onto the house for years, to use as a template to make a wooden winter storm window. In the years past I hung an old quilt over the window to keep the wind and cold air out. The same way people used to hang tapestries or cover their walls with newspaper to keep the cold from coming through.
It’s because there was no screen on the window, and the outside was only a pane of glass away, that made me think to bring the icicle into our bedroom. Once Jay fits the storm window in place it won’t be as easy to get to the outside from our bed. We’ll be warmer, but I’ll no longer be able to reach out my window and bring the outside in.