Layers

It's that time of year here.  There is no throwing open the door and leaving.  No, there are layers to put on first.  You start on the underwear sock layer.  Forget the plain old underwear, you need something thermal!  So over the top of your regulars, there's a layer of long john type action going on.  Pants, socks, turtleneck, shirt, coat, vest, scarf, gloves, and hat make up many of the remaining layers.  

My day is spent taking off my clothes.  No, don't go there.  No one wants to see that.  I'm talking sweaters, shirts, jackets, etc.  At least four times during the course of my shift I'll have to reverse that to go for the mail, picking up book drops, or getting supplies.  The taking off and putting on of clothing is a process that goes through the entire day, every day until spring hits around July.

People here have a tendency to get pretty tired in the winter.  I think clothing has a lot to do with that, and shoveling snow, and  putting out salt on the walks, and breaking up ice, just the added exertions winter puts on us.  My house is freezing when I get up in the morning.  There is work to be done hauling wood and building fires before anything else.  By the time the coffee is on the fire has started warming a small area of space around it.  I often sit on my stove for the first twenty minutes the fire is going.  About the same time I have put on enough clothes to tolerate the chill air the coffee is done and when I'm back from fixing a cup the stove has warmed the whole room.  

I think I would like to move to a warmer climate but humans are such creatures of habit.  What new routines would fill in my winter morning ones?  What would replace the feeling you get when the fire is crackling, the coffee is ready and the morning is new?  Would I appreciate getting up so early to be able to write?  Would things be too easy to make them valuable to me?  Would the old layers of my life have to be ripped away and replaced by new ones?  Would I have to throw out my winter clothing collection?  

Life would probably be easier in many other places.  I'd probably grow new layers but I'm almost sixty and changes get harder as you get older.  I am looking through all the layers of my life and trying to decide if good friendships make up for the daily pain.  So far they have.  My layers are thin, old and threadbare but they are mine and I gather them to myself for warmth.