Under the Wire

Well, winter is here. I said I could hardly wait for it to get here. Boy, was that a stupid thing to say. I have to wonder just what was I thinking of. I do, however know what I was not thinking of. I was not thinking about frozen water tanks, even those very expensive heated waterers. In my limited and not very convincing defense, it was probably July or August when I voiced my eager anticipation of -15 degree weather. Nothing like 95 degrees and 85 percent humidity to make you crave cooler temps.

One major slip of my recall of winter was how much work it is to pull on all that winter clothing. For me this begins with the heaviest “T” shirt I can find, worn under a new wrangler denim shirt, the new ones are warmer then those worn thin by 390 washing machine visits.

A hooded sweatshirt is next in line, then a silk neck scarf, all covered by the heaviest Carhartt coveralls available at any store. Top all of this off with an old fashioned blue scotch cap, ear flaps down, sweat shirt hood covering it up and either insulated mittens or very heavy gloves, depending on what the thermometer is suggesting, and of course, don’t forget the insulated snow boots. Did I mention heavy wool socks, too?

Putting all this on takes about 20 minutes, longer if I can only find one mitten. Whatever chore I was headed out to do will probably not take as long or be as much work as getting dressed to do it.

Of course, upon returning to the house after finishing whatever I went out for, there will be an equal amount of time spent removing all but the basic layers that cowboy modestly require. If I take time to hang all these clothes in the closet you can add another 10 minutes.

Yep, winter is really something to look forward too. The snow is OK. We need the moisture, the green grass next spring will remind me how helpful snow can be.

So far I cannot figure out something in July that might remind me how great 15 degrees below zero is.

Maybe if I looked at that closet full of winter gear, perhaps pull on a layer or two just for old times’ sake, I might be reminded to never say something as stupid as, “I can hardly wait for winter to get here.”