Making accommodations for cold weather (and increasingly colder weather in the months ahead) seems to engage more decision-making than years past. Hard to say if this is something you over-think or over-complicate. Whatever the reason, I find that clearing the summer clothes out of the closet and depositing the winter ones in their place causes me to pause more so the past couple of years than it did 5-10 years ago.
Last week, we got some temperatures into the 20’s at night. That’s a signal. Time to air out the winter jacket. Check and see where the stocking caps are. Find those lost winter gloves. See if anything needs to be washed because they remain stale or dirty from the previous winter.
The past two years, rather than making a massive transition in one day, emptying my closet of short-sleeve shirts and filling the area with long-sleeved ones, I’ve incrementally made these changes. One week, I shift over three shirts, particularly ones I know I’ll wear in the colder weather. A week later, I find a flannel shirt that looks good and I bring it over to the closet in our bedroom and remove a golf shirt. And so on.
This goes on for several weeks. Rather than one massive evacuation, I tier the decision-making. Partly, this is tied to weather. There is no clear break when you absolutely know for sure that the next two weeks are going to stay below freezing. Instead, we get some cold nights down in the high 20’s or low 30’s and day-time temps may still hit 42 or 46. You aren’t going to sprint outside in shorts, but you also don’t need long johns.
This time of year, you can’t count on consistency. After hitting the types of days noted above, you may get three days in the high 50’s. Golf beckons. You go to the supermarket in pants and a t-shirt. You whistle while you work in the yard, the blindingly blue sky filling your heart with thanks and joy. But not a winter jacket.
As you shift your personal mindset from summer to fall to possibly winter, you undergo this ever-so-slight transition, like other mammals. You may find yourself starting to consume more foods, appreciating starches, preparing yourself to hibernate for three months. Sleep becomes a closer friend, one more Making accommodations for cold weather (and increasingly colder weather in the months ahead) seems to engage more decision-making than years past. Hard to say if this is something you over-think or over-complicate. Whatever the reason, I find that clearing the summer clothes out of the closet and depositing the winter ones in their place causes me to pause more so the past couple of years than it did 5-10 years ago.
Last week, we got some temperatures into the 20’s at night. That’s a signal. Time to air out the winter jacket. Check and see where the stocking caps are. Find those lost winter gloves. See if anything needs to be washed because they remain stale or dirty from the previous winter.
You can’t give in completely though, so rather than wearing winter gloves, I pull out the fingertip-less hand gloves to demonstrate how tough I am in the face of 37-degree temperatures while raking leaves. When my fingertips go numb in 23 minutes, I realize I’m not so tough anymore.
Another gradual change involves the head gear. Warmer months, you decide which ballcap is best suited for the day. When your ears start to get cold, you know it’s time to decide on a stocking cap or one with ear flaps.
Sadly, declining hair population accelerates this decision with each year. The cool breeze becomes colder on a scalp increasingly bare. As your natural protection decelerates, the artificial one must increase.
And, I guess that’s what it’s all about. You figure this out and adjust in stages, bit by bit, learning, going outside and realizing, “hmmmm, better get a jacket.” There’s no nirvana moment of change; instead, you keep living and learning day-to-day.
Last week, we got some temperatures into the 20’s at night. That’s a signal. Time to air out the winter jacket. Check and see where the stocking caps are. Find those lost winter gloves. See if anything needs to be washed because they remain stale or dirty from the previous winter.
The past two years, rather than making a massive transition in one day, emptying my closet of short-sleeve shirts and filling the area with long-sleeved ones, I’ve incrementally made these changes. One week, I shift over three shirts, particularly ones I know I’ll wear in the colder weather. A week later, I find a flannel shirt that looks good and I bring it over to the closet in our bedroom and remove a golf shirt. And so on.
This goes on for several weeks. Rather than one massive evacuation, I tier the decision-making. Partly, this is tied to weather. There is no clear break when you absolutely know for sure that the next two weeks are going to stay below freezing. Instead, we get some cold nights down in the high 20’s or low 30’s and day-time temps may still hit 42 or 46. You aren’t going to sprint outside in shorts, but you also don’t need long johns.
This time of year, you can’t count on consistency. After hitting the types of days noted above, you may get three days in the high 50’s. Golf beckons. You go to the supermarket in pants and a t-shirt. You whistle while you work in the yard, the blindingly blue sky filling your heart with thanks and joy. But not a winter jacket.
As you shift your personal mindset from summer to fall to possibly winter, you undergo this ever-so-slight transition, like other mammals. You may find yourself starting to consume more foods, appreciating starches, preparing yourself to hibernate for three months. Sleep becomes a closer friend, one more Making accommodations for cold weather (and increasingly colder weather in the months ahead) seems to engage more decision-making than years past. Hard to say if this is something you over-think or over-complicate. Whatever the reason, I find that clearing the summer clothes out of the closet and depositing the winter ones in their place causes me to pause more so the past couple of years than it did 5-10 years ago.
Last week, we got some temperatures into the 20’s at night. That’s a signal. Time to air out the winter jacket. Check and see where the stocking caps are. Find those lost winter gloves. See if anything needs to be washed because they remain stale or dirty from the previous winter.
You can’t give in completely though, so rather than wearing winter gloves, I pull out the fingertip-less hand gloves to demonstrate how tough I am in the face of 37-degree temperatures while raking leaves. When my fingertips go numb in 23 minutes, I realize I’m not so tough anymore.
Another gradual change involves the head gear. Warmer months, you decide which ballcap is best suited for the day. When your ears start to get cold, you know it’s time to decide on a stocking cap or one with ear flaps.
Sadly, declining hair population accelerates this decision with each year. The cool breeze becomes colder on a scalp increasingly bare. As your natural protection decelerates, the artificial one must increase.
And, I guess that’s what it’s all about. You figure this out and adjust in stages, bit by bit, learning, going outside and realizing, “hmmmm, better get a jacket.” There’s no nirvana moment of change; instead, you keep living and learning day-to-day.