Do you want to know how I know it’s too cold? It’s not the mounds of glistening snow, or the thermometres depressing number, or the Russian-looking man by the -28 (“real feel”) on the weather app. Do you want to know how I really know?
It’s by the way that I’m bundled up in so many layers that I look like the Michelin man’s chubbier girlfriend and yet am still cold. Seriously.
When I went to work this morning I was wearing: a vest top tucked into leggings/long-johns which were tucked into a pair of long socks, over which I had a second vest top tucked into thermal leggings and a second pair of socks, then a matching thermal top tucked into my wind- and waterproof outdoor trousers, then I had a woolen jumper/top, then a woolen cardigan. And of course I also had a woolen scarf, winter boots with a furry lining, two pairs of gloves, a hat, and my thick and puffy winter coat.
Even with all that by the time I’d walked the 8 minutes from the bus to Thing 2’s home my face was telling me that it wasn’t sure where my nose had gone, and my fingers were angrily insisting that they were being viciously stabbed by many tiny needles. (Given the gouging my thumb had suffered not all that long before, they were particularly unimpressed about it.)
Luckily when I took the boys out a bit later in the morning the sun had come up and the wind had died down. Those combined with adding a third pair of socks (fleecy with a furry top) and a pair of arm warmers meant that I was actually comfortably warm whilst we were outside. Though we didn’t go very far from Thing 2’s home, and we didn’t stay out very long either!