I hate to be cold.

I hate to be cold. Four months out of the year I live with ice-cold hands, toes, and nose. Just ask my husband about my icicle fingers . . . I love to stick them under his shirt for a quick warm up!

I hate to be cold. During the cold months we set our thermostat to dip to 60 degrees over night. So the other night I had on a undershirt, flannel jammies, and fuzzy socks when I slid into my flannel sheets to go to bed. I was nice an toasty all night.

I hate to be cold. When the boys want to go outside in the winter, I frown. I don’t like how the wind whips through my pants. I don’t like how the air feels going into my nose. Since JD used to push snow, he as a Carhartt pair of bib overalls and coat. I borrowed those last year to take the boys out. They were way to big. Yesterday I bought my own pair from the local farm store. I’m stylish let me tell you. The Ladies selection was available in black, brown, tan, red. I bought red. I bought a matching red coat. Later in the day after I spent 40 minutes bundling the boys and me up, I realized that I looked a bit like Santa! We played outside for 2 hours and I NEVER was cold. I love my new snow gear. I’m sure that some ski bunny from Tahoe would never be seen in it . . . but in the unlikely event of a south plains blizzard,  I would be visible! Plus, if we ever get some farm animals (ie. horses, bucket calves, alpacas) I’ll already be prepared for winter chores.

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