I don’t own any serious winter hats for the simple reason that my head doesn’t often get cold.
Even when I ski, which is rare these days, I usually just wear a fleece headband to cover my ears. Let me clarify that I’m a West Coast skier, which means I’m generally skiing in temperatures north of 25 degrees. Let me also clarify that my head is an exception. The rest of me gets cold very easily. And I don’t like being cold. I can get on board with taking a ski trip, but I have no use for dark cold winters at my place of residence and would skip them altogether if I had a choice.
Needless to say, I am not thrilled that the move to NJ has intensified my winter experience. I do realize that other people, maybe even you, live in much colder places but please humor me. I am a native Californian at my limit. My blood is different, I swear, and I’ll never warm up to this cold.
For the past week, the highs where I live in NJ have been below 20 degrees and the lows in the single digits. Running from the car to someplace inside and back has been barely tolerable. But I’ve also had to take Buster to the woods for his one hour romp, and that’s been COLD. My hands hurt, even through my best gloves. My toes go numb, even with wool socks. In these temperatures, even MY head needs a hat.
But I don’t own the right kind of hat, so I borrowed one from Shane.
I rocked the skulls and fringe mohawk, don’t you think? My head stayed warm too. Win-win!
But the real winner was Buster. I’d still have preferred to stay inside.
Buster and his half sister, Jersey Girl