Cold. Cold. Cold.

Cold. Cold. Cold.

How cold is it?

It’s so cold that a few days ago, when I was baking pita bread in the kitchen, wearing three layers (the top one a bulky sweater) and with the oven temp at 550 degrees F, mixing, kneading and rolling out dough, I didn't even break a sweat. (I was comfortably warm after all that, though, so I’m not complaining.)

With the price of heating fuel so high, our monthly building maintenance fee has gone through the roof. And that’s only for four hours of heat per day! I’d just like to give up the central heating and do it myself. I’m sure it would be cheaper.

Fortunately, I’m fine. My little heater is doing an excellent job of keeping the place cozy. I’ve put a deep bowl of water in front of it to keep the air from getting too dry.

But two people in Israel have already died of hypothermia, one in the south and one in the central region.

This cold snap is due to end in approximately two days. Do I hear one? Do I hear none?

It’s at times like these when I use the old sense-memory exercises we used to do in acting class. For much of the year, it is very hot here, blazingly, relentlessly hot. So I’m trying to recreate the feeling as much as possible.

Hey, it can’t hurt.

Besides, I have an audition this evening, so it’s good to keep my hand in.