The past week here has been a fabulous dark and gloomy break from the extremely grating heat that was literally cooking these parts into fires. To me, gloomy weather gives us a break. Sunshine can guilt one into thinking they MUST partake in the world, rather than doing down-time things like, laying on the couch, laying on the couch watching movies, laying on the couch pretending you are watching baseball (oops!) or reading, while laying on the couch.
Downtime activities are a must-have when you live in a place that has real winters. You must find something to do with your time, while encased in hefty and heavy amounts of clothing to protect you from the brisk and sometimes, razor-like winter-y winds. This is one of the reasons people drink for sport in places that get cold (and that have good public transportation!)
I am babbling...
During my last winter in Chicago, I had finally started using the EL trains. I had been a bus person up till then, mostly because my bus was about 10 feet from my front door, while the EL train was at least six blocks west of where I lived. In city terms, its really not that far. In winter terms, it was WJLHS (Where Jesus Left His Shoes).
This particular day I am referring to, there was a snow storm. It was more than a storm…buckets of heavy, wet snow was sincerely pummeling itself to the ground. I thought I was safe. I thought I was protected.
I got off of the EL and on to the street..or where the street had been.
I was wearing a fairly new winter coat. Plum-colored, viciously warm, with length going down to my feet, a glorious fluffy collar and gorgeous to look at, I'd gotten a mean deal on it at Marshall Fields (with several friendly discounts from a good friend that was working there). I thought I could handle it. I thought my new warm coat and I could handle a six block walk. I thought I would win.
Little did I know that when the wet, heavy-like-a-dead-body snow hit my coat, my once gorgeous and warm coat, became 200 lbs of evil wet wool. Evil dead weight wool that I had to haul through a foot of wet snow, whipping wet and cold wind. On top of that, I was also carrying my work bag and purse, which were now sopping wet. With the behemoth amounts of snow, my coat was no longer able to protect me or my things.
I was also wearing a head sock. Head socks are like a sock for your head, only there is a nice gaping hole to breathe out of. There are also two drawstrings to keep it secured (good ones do, at least). Mine had a 1/2 of a missing string, lost-in-fabric-oblivion thing happening. You know, like when your sweats have a drawstring and ½ of it disappears with NO easy way to get it out?? The same thing had happened to my illustrious head sock. Now, with wind whipping, I had cold and wet cloth wrapped around my neck. It just COULDN'T stay on my head when I needed it to, could it?? AND to top it off, being the fashionista I think I am, I had combat boots on. Oh yes, complete with metal brackets. What does that mean?? It means that when its colder than freezer burned meat, the metal sticks together. So on top of being a pile of wet weathered wool walking, my legs would hook together every so often and stick. And yes, (insert your laughter) I did fall. And yes, I did resemble Randy Parker, Ralphie's little brother from "A Christmas Story…" That whole winter I fell wearing those stupid boots (but that's a story for another day!)
As I trudged my own body weight on top of the heaving mass of wool that was on my back, I was swearing under my breath, saying things that would make truck drivers blush. I was numb. Cold. Soaking. There were drifts everywhere. I could not see a block in front of me. I dropped my purse at one point and decided if it happened again, I was leaving it until the Spring.
When I finally arrived to my apartment, I literally peeled my clothing off, soaking-cold piece after piece. Trying to hang a wool coat that is water-logged is one thing, but hanging it and then placing it onto the bathroom shower curtain rod is just not bright. I recall the entire wet wool entourage ripping down my rod, curtain, wet goods and all and falling onto me. I had just started to feel my feet again. Lucky for me, I had radiators and the two in my apartment, quickly became drying spots of mittens, scarves, etc. But that damn coat lied in a heap in my bathtub while I made a spot of tea and did a shot of something to warm my insides.
Sigh.
Today at lunch, T and I were walking near a film shoot set in the dead of winter. Everyone was dressed like my memory of that day…coats, hats, scarves . When we got an okay to walk through the set, there were even patches of that white stuff on the ground. We walked through it in our 70 degree clothing. Glorious.
Beautiful. Strangely, I do miss it...
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