Alright, let’s put our heads together and think of some good things about winter. The first one is pretty obvious: we love how hot my bedroom gets in the winter. The womb. The incubator. As I recently told my friend Emily, when I wake up in the morning in my 90+ degree hotbox, I feel like I’ve just been born. Or like I’m just about to be. Think of the philosophical and spiritual implications: every day is a new life! And dang I just love it toasty.
Second, we get to wear warm clothes like sweaters and scarves and such. Women, put away your razors, for the next six months no one cares how wooly your legs are. Or if they care, they won’t see, anyway. I might even go out and invest in some long underwear this year. I am going to go overboard with the winter clothing. I just am, okay? Blustry days…
I suppose there are other nice things about winter, which don’t reflect my bias toward heat in some form. There are those aesthetics like seeing your breath in cloud-form, ice covered branches, blah-di-blah and so forth. It’s just not my season. I’m trying to stay positive. I made the most wonderful Elliott Smith mix yesterday, though, which doesn’t exactly help positivity. But if there isn’t a more perfect time of year to listen to it, then I’ll be a munckey’s ankle. Alright. I write this same post every year at this time. Let’s put our heads together, though, really. If only for the body heat.
“We battled the wintry winds. We put on our thickest skins.” Nedelle.