I returned from my conference in New Orleans just in time for a blast of normal New England weather. Not as cold as the deep Midwest, to be sure, but the ‘real feel’ this morning was negative 8. We managed to fit in a dog walk yesterday, and on that walk I wanted to send another shout out to the battered long, lavender commuter coat I stitched up last year after the dog had pulled it apart for no good reason, unless wanting to lie on something of mine counts as an excuse.
This coat cuts the wind, makes the arctic blasts turn on themselves and run. No ‘puffer vest’ for me, I thought as we trudged around the meadow; this coat is armor. I was thinking about this coat on the trackside today, wearing my “pretty good and looks better coat,” and double pants, and two hats, and I wondered: could this be the winter I trend set with my sixth grade tactic: no analysis, just pull on the snowpants? I don’t know what’s more remarkable: that “they” made us wear dresses in elementary school on those bone-cold days, or that I really am old enough to remember them.
But I digress. I’ve left behind some great food down way on the Delta with pretty close to a vow to send my boys to the WW2 museum in NOLA. During this, my third conference and trip to that city, I was again able to pull up a chair with some beignets and hot chocolate and watch the ships and barges float by. (here’s a shout out to my conference roommate, who is also happily entertained by such things or, at least, comes with me to sit deckside at the Mall branch of Café du Monde to see these sights.)
Back up here, we have a Pats win to celebrate and folks are still discussing the long ball heave and end-zone catch by The Pack late Saturday night. I also realize it’s lighter now in these early morning commutes, and, as I gaze out the train window across the thin blanket of white and spy a hawk looking for his breakfast, someone’s phone rings full volume with a sound like my family’s old wall mounted unit of those snowpants days. Let me check….where am I again?! The phone is ringing, and I am wearing snowpants!
But at this stage of life, if it’s Tuesday, I think I am going to work. And if it’s January, some kind of snowstorm is due this weekend. But if that comes, I am ready. Bring it on, you crazy now for 25+ years New England hometown of mine. I’m full of gumbo, and I’m back.