Surviving November and Beyond

Here in the Midwest, November is finally starting to act like November instead of November's balmy, sunny cousin who likes teddy bears and sunshine. This is probably a good dose of reality, but it does not mean that I am terribly happy about it. For instance, tomorrow's forecast calls for forty-two and rainy for most of the day. Forty-two and rainy has been scientifically proven to be the worst weather in the world, because it is bone-chillingly cold and wet and miserable with no possibility of snow. Snow, despite what you may think, is wonderful, because it is at once beautiful and exciting. Never a dull moment with snow around. Forty-two and rainy? Shoot me.

That said, there are going to be a lot of days coming up where the weather is some form of absolutely miserable, depending on your personal definition of the concept. Today, as I stared out my window at forty-two and cloudy (not so bad, but not exactly May either), I came to the conclusion that there are only two legitimate options for dealing with harsh weather, in whatever form it may take:

1. Hide from it. Forty-two and rainy is the absolute perfect weather in which to lower the blinds, sit down on the couch and read a good book. In inclement conditions, nest whenever possible. This is not a brilliant idea, or even a terribly original one, but nesting behavior does take extra effort, especially now that we've become so used to mother nature not trying to kill us (Hurricane- or tornado-ravaged areas notwithstanding). The little things are key here: Wear warm socks. Kick the thermostat up to seventy-three for a little while. Take a very hot shower. Go buy firewood for your fireplace that you never use. Personally, I have a collection of fleece pullovers, and I will be wearing them pretty constantly until about April.

2. Embrace it. Listen, it's going to be miserable, or at least harsh, so go out and enjoy the beauty of the harshness. As with hiding, this also requires a fair amount of effort, and also involves things like warm socks and fleece. There are very few things more satisfying to me than putting on about sixteen layers of clothing and going for a walk in the season's first blizzard. I need to work on applying this logic to forty-two and rainy, because the right coat, boots, and a large umbrella could make a walk around the local nature preserve quite tolerable, and even rewarding. This is basically an exercise in accepting the insanity that life throws at you, and it is important to know that you own enough layers and foul-weather gear not only to survive the assault of November and beyond, but to tramp right out into the belly of the beast and notice how incredibly beautiful it is in its own ridiculous and extreme way.

And of course, these two bipolar options are best pursued in tandem, as one makes for a greater appreciation of the other. You can't really nest unless you've gone out there and let nature have a good swing at you, and if you didn't nest, you wouldn't have the energy to go out into the stuff. As usual, the truth of contradicting viewpoints rules the day.