You know, my coat froze once while I waited for the school bus, but never my shoes. This was a completely new experience for me.
The coat episode happened in high school. It was the seventies and natural fabrics like wool were for squares. My coat was a groovy double-breasted number with a big gold buckle; very That Girl. It was made from weird space age material, shiny brown stuff — picture a soft, crinkled patent leather.
When the bus came, I’d been waiting in bone-chilling cold for half an hour. I got on, I found a seat, I sat down. And, crack, my coat broke. It had literally frozen stiff and when I sat on it, it cracked like a windshield. Not my finest moment.
Today was different. Today it was my shoes that froze and my feet were in them at the time. You see, I had to dig my car out from under nearly a foot of snow. I had to scrape ice off the windows. I had to pry open the driver’s door. All of this required standing and walking in frigid, shin-deep snow. It was, essentially, 20 minutes in the Yukon, a modified Iditarod.
In the process, my soft, pliable leather boots turned into cement shoes. My footsteps rang out, clattering loudly, something they don’t normally do. They echoed. It was unnerving. Did you know shoes could freeze? I didn’t. Then again, I’d never had my hands go numb inside gloves, either. But they did. When they started to thaw, yeow!, it felt as if they were on fire.
In the end, what saved me from the subzero temperatures was my hat — the red plaid jobbie with the furry ear flaps. It’s way too big for my undersized pinhead, it spins around pretty freely up there, but, oohhhh, it’s better than wearing a bun warmer. I wouldn’t have survived without that thing securely chin-strapped to my noggin. Seriously.
Other women wear the same kind of dorky hat and they look adorable. Charming, even. Me? No. I become Mrs. Fudd. Albeit a warm and cozy Mrs. Fudd.
Copyright © 2014 Publikworks
the whirly girl 
18 responses to “: frozen shoes :”
I look okay in a Fedora. A Fedora is a summer time hat. I am not wearing a Fedora.
I hate winter. So except for all the talk about cold blah blah blah…nice post. *grin*
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That so totally fits my image of you, BD. I see you as a Lauren Bacall-type, from the 40s, maybe? Am I close?
Keep your chin up, only 59 more days until spring — officially. In my world, it comes earlier. 40 days!
And congratulations on your major award, you genius you :o)
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I have a very similar hat. Ok, I’m not a picture of sartorial elegance but I’m warm. :-D
Last time I was I the Arctic ( she said haughtily – and I’ve only been once) I took this this hat and never went outdoors without it, and several other layers. :-D
I hope you’re over the worst of the cold weather now. Don’t send it over here!
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I love that hat more than my computer. More than my socks. More than anything.
We are over the worst of it, Lesley. Now comes the messy, slushy, soggy thaw. Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to send it on over? You might get some free vacation days out of it.
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Hahaaa Thanks for the offer and a few days off seems a nice idea except – I do all my editing work from home and there would be absolutely no excuse for getting on with it and no escape so no,thanks, you can keep your vortex ta.
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I aspire to look good in hats. Alas, I do not.
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You have to look better wearing one than I do. Hats and I are just an unfortunate combination. Oil and water, you know?
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Ah! What is it? I think for me – my head is too small or something. And my hair’s not right. And the sad thing is – I LOVE hats. We should do a collaborative hat post!
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My life is one long bad hair day, Marisa. And every hat is too freaking big — not just a little big, but way, way big. Kid’s hats would fit, but I’m too embarrassed to wear them.
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Haha!! Similar problems you and I, I think!
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Ooooo, I think I know that coat! Wow, you were a real hipster, weren’t you? Anything That Girl-ish was the coolest.
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I was a total dweeb with a fashionable mother. That gene didn’t get passed on.
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Wow, how many degrees is it there! Haha, other than that, awesome blog!
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Hi, Fahad. And thanks. With wind chill factored in, it was -35F. Not picnic weather.
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I loved this. I think there isn’t anything quite as uncomfortable as that unique, painful, “frozen foot” feeling when you think your feet will break in half because they’re so cold. Fortunately I live in Los Angeles where it’s about 75 degrees and I’m in flip flops.
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You’re one of the lucky ones, Merilee. My feet may never again be warm enough for flip flops : (
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so funny, and glad you survived intact. i can identify with all of this, as i live in michigan. stay warm, beth
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Hi, Beth, thanks. The worst is over here, although still well below zero. Just not as far below and not as windy. Put another log on the fire and good luck. I’ll be thinking of you.
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