Throwback—This Winter

Throwback—This Winter

This was ordinally written in Chicago, posted February 12, 2014

The other day I walked into the kitchen at my daughter’s house and someone said—"You look like one of those Finnish winter soldiers.” I had on long johns, a cable knit sweater, with a quilted white shacket (from Wiki: A shacket is a versatile hybrid garment, combining the structure of a jacket with the style of a button-down shirt. Thicker than a standard shirt but lighter than a coat). I did indeed look and FEEL like a winter soldier, standing up to the cold and snow. And, a little stealthy, in order to blend in. Somewhat like a snowy owl or snow hare.

This Winter
February 12, 2014, written in Chicago

This is the first winter I can remember when 2 coats wasn’t enough.

This winter I’ve worn my long underwear for the past 40 days.

This winter has been so cold that 4 above feels like a heat wave.

This is the first winter where I’ve come to understand the principle of hibernation.

As someone who loves winter, I can’t stand the thought of another 6 weeks of it.

Instead of putting on my normal winter weight of 2 – 3 pounds, I’ve gained ten.

The idea of a snow day no longer holds delight. I dread the weather report now.

In the past I’ve run throughout the winter, unless I was x-country skiing. This winter I’ve had to push myself to exercise. It’s hard to move when wearing 6 layers.

There are some days when I never step outside—and I like it.

This winter my skin has been so dry I’ve gone through a whole bottle of Jergens; my last bottle lasted 2 years.

This winter nearly all the Great Lakes are ice covered. I could walk from Chicago to Canada, if I wanted to.

This winter I’ve learned to recognize the razor BRZZZ sound of a snowblower outside my window.

This winter whenever I get off the train, I practically run home. If not any exposed skin would freeze.

This is the first winter I can remember when I haven’t left the house with wet hair.

This winter the static electricity in the air makes me a natural conductor. I spark everyone I touch.

This winter has already lasted way too long.