Sometime between Patrick's birthday and the end of November, it became winter, and it is cold. And the funny thing is, I just spent two years where at least three months out of the year were perpetually below freezing. If it's gotten below freezing in Washington, I have been safely in my bed next to a heater that does not run by oil that runs out every three weeks. I've always been one to adapt quickly to the weather where ever I'm living, which sounds like a skill but is actually just annoying: in Seattle, 38 degrees is unbearable. In Dover, I'm okay as long as it doesn't drop below 10.
To be fair, a few friends and I have recently come to the conclusion that Seattle has the coldest 40 degrees we've ever felt. It's something in the way the air is damp and gets in your lungs and bones and makes you feel like your toes might not every feel the same again.
At Fred Meyer this past week, I found a pair of green fleece-lined leggings, which Patrick got for me. I had been pining over these, but Fred Meyer's were a fraction of the cost and GREEN. Forest green! I wore them to work yesterday, along with a large sweater that hides my shape--my favorite kind--and for the first time in weeks I felt warm somewhere other than my bed or my car with the heat on full-blast. I was wrapped in a cocoon of comfort! Knits and wool and fleece and plush!
I can't help but remember those nights (and days) in New Hampshire where the temperature would dip into single digits, and think that these leggings would have kept me just as warm there as they are here.