Running with Scissors

Sara Peterson-Davis has worked as a newspaper researcher and reporter, as well as a communications director and consultant. She and her husband, Monty Davis, can be found in Liberty, Mo., keeping their two children from running with scissors. Contact Sara

Brrr!

by Sara Peterson-Davis

All I’ve been hearing from people lately is how they can’t wait for cold weather.

While for them winter means a break from yard work and a chance to snuggle up and catch up on their reading, for me it means a break from feeling my toes and a chance to figure out how close I can sit to a fire before bursting into flames myself.

While they’re looking forward to four months of frost and icicles, I will be looking forward to weeks of shivering and teeth chattering.

I don’t know what it is, but I just can’t get warm for very long, once the mercury dips much past 40 degrees. My fingers and toes get icy and all fashion sense goes out the window. I start piling on the clothes to get comfortable and by the time I’m finished I look as if I just stepped off the runway of “America’s Top Lumberjack.” Or is that Lumberjane?

No matter what the thermostat on the wall reads, the one inside me goes on the fritz.

Anyway, when I’m not dressed in a cocoon of wool, fleece and microfibers, I’m usually sitting on a heating pad with a cup of something hot in my hands. If safety weren’t an issue, I think I’d sew a whole bunch of heating pads together to make some sort of electric poncho or muumuu. But then I’d have to drag around an extension cord, and then if I spilled anything on myself I’d probably crisp up real quick.

Oh people have suggested dozens of things to help me get through the winter – creams and herbs, potions and concoctions. But to get over a chill like mine, I’m afraid I could end up on a slab or in rehab if I took their advice.

One piece of advice that came close to taking the chill off was putting rice in a sock and heating it up in the microwave. It’s pretty cozy sitting around your neck or on your feet. But when I heated it up a dozen times a day, the house and I started smelling like overcooked Chinese restaurant rice.

The only ones who understand my frosty circumstances are my cat and dog. They’re my winter entourage. Since I suspect they suffer from the same complaints as me, I only have to sit down and they’re right there with me or on top of me snuggling for warmth.

There were a couple of three dog nights last winter, when I toyed with the idea of adopting a few extra. A Great Dane can put off some serious BTUs. But jealously issues, vet bills and talk of a possible divorce put an end to that.

So, while all you cold weather lovers are suffering through these precious few hot days and complain all through Indian Summer, I’ll be soaking it up like a lizard on a rock and thumbing through the L.L. Bean Arctic Explorers’ Collection.

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