A Paean to Minnesota Winters

I love the cold.  Let me just get that out of the way because apparently, this is a shocking statement.  I never fully understood how degenerate I am until I started telling people I keep my heater set to 63° during the day and 60° at night.  In addition, I sleep in the buff except for socks, and I pile on the blankets.  What can I say?  I love the cold.

I was taking out the trash and recycling the other night, and I noticed that the air was crisp and cold.  I stayed outside for a few extra-minutes just to savor it.  By the time I went back inside, my eyelids were starting to numb.  Yes, I love that feeling as well.

My best friend, hereafter named Kiki, hates the cold.  She’s from Florida, so I make my allowances.  When we go out in the winter, she’s always complaining about the cold.  She has to wait for her spine to unscrunch before she can drive, and she thinks I’m crazy for liking the cold.

On the other hand, when we go out in the summer, I am grumpy (grumpier), lethargic, and ready to go to bed.  I can feel the heat sapping the energy out of me, and I don’t want to move. 

What people don’t understand is that I feel alive in the cold.  I dress properly, in layers, with gloves, boots, and a scarf/headwrap, and I tingle all over.  Every nerve snaps to attention, and I am supremely aware of my body in a way that just isn’t possible in the heat.  If I am sluggish, the cold braces me and makes me alert.  It’s better than coffee in that respect.   My brain is sharper; my movements more spry; my pores open to the piercing cold.  I tend to walk around in a self-induced haze, so the cold is useful for snapping me back into the present. 

In addition, I delight in the feel of big, fluffy flakes of snow falling onto patches of unprotected skin.  Snow is fun to frolic in, as long as I don’t have to drive.  When I was a kid, I ate snow, and I always marveled at how it was just a mouthful of cold nothing.  I sledded, skated (though I’m very bad at it), and made snow angels with abandonment.  In addition, I have much less allergies in the winter, so that’s a bonus as well.

My cats are much more affectionate in the winter.  My friends say it’s because I keep the house so cold, but I always rejoin, they have fur–they can suck it up.  One friend pointed out that I don’t have fur, to which I say, “I have sweatshirts and sweatpants.  And socks.  Flannel socks.” 

There is nothing better than snuggling on the couch under two blankets with my two cats (yes, both black) snoozing on my legs while I’m tapping away at my laptop.  Sometimes, I have the television on if there’s a game playing, otherwise, I watch Olbermann or Rachel on ‘the internet machine’, as Rachel puts it. 

The cold focuses me and keeps me in my body.  It’s a dear friend, and one reason I live in MN.