"There is no such thing as poor weather, just poor dressing." I've been reminding myself of this a lot lately, especially with days on end of 33 degrees and icy rain, and now -20 degrees plus an even colder windchill. That's pretty close to what I would call "poor weather", if there were such a thing.
My kids don't really care. They're happy to slip and slide on the sheet of ice that used to be our yard and driveway, and getting soaked and/or frozen gives them a strong case for hot cocoa - with marshmallows - when they come in. I like to think I don't mind the cold either. Long underwear, warm socks, hand and foot warmers, and my mom's 40-year-old down coat that I took over years ago usually keep me warm. But only if I stay moving, as in a very brisk (bordering on jog) snowshoe through the woods. Standing around outside while my almost two-year-old trudges along at .2 miles per hour, as cute as it is, does not keep me warm. So for myself, I've been choosing inside over outside.
Of course, it's cold inside too. The kids have been scraping ice off the insides of their bedroom windows each morning. I've come very close to giving the wood stove a big hug, it is so inviting. And coffee has become more than a once-a-day caffeine friend. It is a major source of warmth. I suppose there is no reason I can't have both of these things outside too. Standing around a winter bonfire with thermos in hand might actually be quite pleasant… But then again, look at Alfred cat. I'm pretty sure he's saying I should give up this crazy talk of going outside and curl up next to him for a while.