I am no fan of winter. The snow, the slush, the too-short period of daylight, and don't even get me started on the COLD. How I've managed to live in this state for as long as I have, all the while loathing it nearly six months out of the year is beyond me.
There are those who will tell anyone who isn't a fan of November through March up in these parts, that all they need to do is find an outdoor activity that they like to take the bite out of this wintery hell. Sorry, tried that and it hasn't done a thing to quell my rabid dislike for the dead season. It's months of lamenting the loss of the warm sun, open window temperatures and sandy beach visits for me. Mother Nature can suck it; I will never appreciate her wiles this time of year - no matter how she tries to woo me.
As the choice to be a more positive, silver lining kind of person, this display of negative whining should be something I can rise above. At least, some might think so, at any rate. Here's the thing: I know that despite my vehement nose-thumbing at Father Winter, I've acquiesced to find a few things that bring a smile to my face, and light up my soul, no matter how dark the mornings and afternoons become. In the name of sanity (and not losing precious growth as a person), these things keep the dark cloud of misery that circles me night and day, until the last bit of dirty snow has evaporated from the lawn, at bay.
It is rather fortunate that I am a fanatic for socks. Quite seriously, I can barely close my sock drawer. Knee socks are by far my favorite, followed closely by fuzzy socks. With tall socks, there's an extra layer of incredible warmth from the top of my shin to the tip of my toes. It's all about blocking out the chill, and maybe a bit about not having to shave, because who cares when it's high stocking weather?! The fuzzy socks, now those are super comfy. They are perfect for curling up under an equally soft blanket on the couch with a glass of red wine while binge watching the X-files. I mean, it doesn't get much better than that when it's single digit mercury readings just outside the door. Yes, socks are one of the few secrets to turning my humdrum outlook of winter into a kind of appreciation that's far more uplifting.
Sweaters are another fabulous item that I have in respectable numbers. I find that wrapping my all-too-prone to shivering body in soft, cowl-neck knit-wear can perk up even the most sour of my blue winter moods. Layers are a must when the forecast calls for below freezing cold spells, and there is no better companion for layering than an oversized sweater. They go with nearly anything, so whether I need to dress up, or I'm just lounging about the house watching football and drinking whiskey, I've got a sweater that will cover me. These ladies who pair such wonderful woven attire with micro-skirts and knee boots ought to have their heads examined. Donning a sweater is an immediate and undeniable sign that visible skin of any kind - save your face and hands, is absolutely, unequivocally, off limits until those springtime birds are chirping their happy, little 'everything is new' songs.
Wouldn't you know that I saved the best of my favorite blustery coping aids for last? There is nothing that can warm me through and through when everything else fails to shake off the chill quite like whiskey. When the heat just can't work its way into my skin, when the sweater and socks just don't stop the 'Brrrr' factor, a snifter full of heavenly Irish amber knocks ole Father Winter, Jack Frost, and Mother Nature on their arses for the night. The moment that first sip makes its way across my tongue to the back of my throat I know the world is right once again. That slow burn down my chest to my happy belly blasts away any remaining icy fingers of cold that try to linger too long. An ethereal glow spreads from my head to my feet, prepared to lull away any irritable notions the far-too-crisp air may have tried to instigate.
I may protest when the snowflakes start to fly, but I know that until I watch the last of them die away (with a broad grin affixed on my face), I've got my creature comforts to keep me loving this life, instead of falling into an inconsolable state of despair.
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