I look outside through the window at the snow falling in wavering sheets. I desperately want to go for a walk.
“Wear a red scarf or something so people can see you,” Andy warned. “The speed limit here is 30 km, but those snowmobiles can whip around and have no speed limit. Even the little kids have mini snow machines and speed around like bullets.”
“In this blazing blizzard, how can anyone even SEE a red scarf?” I ask.
Neck warmer pulled over my nose, worsted wool hat pulled down over my eyebrows, double thermal socks, shearling-lined boots, turtle neck, under polar fleece, topped with a down parka with fur-lined periscope hood, water/windproof pants pulled over jeans and the gortex mitts that the shop girl guaranteed would keep me warm, I emerged into a swirling typhoon of snow.
I attempt a photo at the stop sign at the edge of the street. Immediately my glasses fog up and freeze over, so I need to remove them to actually be able to see.
The weather did not deter the dogs, though. They were everywhere, not friendly, but wary, keeping a respectable distance. One large black lab and a little white foxy dog followed me, the lab allowing me to pet him. He instantly construed this as friendship and followed me home up the steps to the house. I showed Andy my new friend, but he said that these were outdoor dogs and not to let them in.
“But they’re cold!” I tell him.
Next time, I make a note to add liner mitts and wear thermal underwear under my warm up pants. It took me at least 10 minutes to dress. Must work on that.