We’ve officially hit it: the stage of winter where we’ve had several big blizzards – including the one on Saturday night that dumped six inches on top of the snow we already had – but where spring is still a far-off possibility. Also known as the time when I start champing at the bit, longing for winter to be over already. (Drat that groundhog. Also, who knew he had a website?)
I’m sick of all my sweaters and scarves, sick of wearing fleece-lined tights every day (though deeply thankful that I own them), sick of commuting home in the dark and trudging through gray slush and not being able to open the windows. I get irrationally annoyed at the shopkeepers who fail to salt or shovel the stretches of sidewalk in front of their stores, leaving piles of impacted snow that melt and refreeze into slippery black ice.
I’m sick of the biting air on my face and the sidewalks narrowed to single-track paths by the heaps of snow on either side. I’m dreading the next heating-oil bill (always bigger than I hope it will be) and wondering whether my feet will ever be warm again. I feel like I have permanent hat hair, permanent dry skin from the indoor air, a permanently drippy nose.
And we have – irrespective of Punxsutawney Phil’s predictions – at least six more weeks of winter.
In other words, we have arrived at the stage where the only way out is through, where I have to keep following my winter rituals because it’s all I can do. I have to keep brewing my morning tea and flipping on my happy lamp every day and turning on the electric blanket before bed. I have to dress in layers every morning and check the heating-oil gauge and pull on my snow boots before going outside. I have to keep making soup and enchiladas and more tea, because they will nourish and sustain me through the rest of the winter.
Fortunately, the Olympics are on, and the days are getting longer – it’s still afternoon, not quite twilight, when I leave the office now. We are making plans for spring travel and I’m working through a stack of library books and several books I already own (in keeping with Leigh’s February Reading Challenge). I am drinking a lot of water and going to yoga twice a week. (Full disclosure: I am also eating a lot of chocolate and drinking gallons of tea.) And I’m hanging on.
Any winter survival tips? I’d love ’em if you’ve got ’em. And please tell me – when will it be spring?
cakes, tea and dreams 
I get irrationally mad at anyone (shopkeepers, homeowners, the city) who doesn’t plow/shovel and salt immediately after a storm. Although it’s been snowing pretty much constantly so it’s hard to keep up with at this point.
I hear you, girl! I am up in Maine and we are soldiering through at this point. The storms are coming in like planes into Logan!
If you stay in New England and end up in a house, be sure it has a lot of south facing windows and some wood heat. I have brilliant sun every day and don’t use any heat until the evening. I sit and read, bathed in sunlight!
Look into some oils, like lavender or citrus. Many will boost your mood with just a few sniffs. I bought an electric diffuser from Amazon. I use lavender and sleep so well. It also hydrates the air.
A trip south later in the spring will keep your spirits boosted also:)
I think that forcing yourself to go outside, even when it’s freezing, really helps to get through the winter. Being cooped up too long inside is just brutal! Now that it’s February, the sun is so much brighter and feels a little warmer. It sounds like you walk to work, so you already have that covered.
I agree with Lesley about scents to improve your mood. I have a mint candle that just lifts my spirits every time I light it – which is every night now!
It seems we are all in this together. I hope we can look back on the Winter of 2014 and laugh a little…
Oh gosh, I feel like you’ve already implemented my coping mechanisms (ie – physical activity, good books, etc). They seem to take a little bit of the edge of for me; I just wish they were magic too. 🙂
Even the most cheerless of circumstances (such as a long, generous winter) can be transformed if they’re described in the right way. Your post makes me think of Whittier’s poem “Snow-bound.” Read it over. Find some delicious phrases to warm your thoughts in the midst of the snow and slush.
I hate this part of winter, too. When I was growing up in the northeast, the stretch between Valentine’s Day and Easter always seemed interminable. Honestly I think skiing was the only thing that got me through some of those winters. I know you’re not a skier, but maybe adding in some outdoor activity aside from the commute would help? Grab some skates and Jeremiah and find a nice outdoor rink where you can imagine you’re Meryl and Charlie? Or what about a day trip to Concord to see Orchard House all covered in snow?
Hang in there, my friend. Spring *will* come eventually. The calendar says it has to… Phil notwithstanding. (And remember – Phil is wrong over 60% of the time. So his prediction of an extended winter is more likely to mean an early spring. Math! I knew it had to be good for something.) 🙂
Top 10 winter survival tips:
1. Move to Florida.
(Coming from a guy that USED to live in northern Wisconsin.)
Oh, hang in there my sweet girl! I know you are doing all you can to slog through. You are one of the strongest people I know, and you CAN make it through this cold snowy winter. Remember when y’all were little and would make a chart counting down to something? Make one for San Diego – think of the psychological satisfaction of marking off each day! 🙂 Love you so so much. Mom
I’m insanely behind on my Blog Feed, but I hope it’s warming up now!
I second Chance… my tip is move South! Florida is nice. I hear Texas is neat too. 🙂 I totally get why people become snow birds.
But seriously, whenever I’m doing something I don’t particularly want to do (dishes, etc.) I sort of fool myself into romanticizing it. Picture myself in an old movie, soft music tinkling (an actual soundtrack of lovely tunes helps the illusion along), as if it’s the most glamourous thing around.
When all else fails, think of us all over the rest of the country jealous of your fabulous Ivy League job.