Winter Wonderland: Home Edition

“Oh, the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful,” so the song goes, and it’s true that I would much prefer to be indoors than out on these snowy days. But I will also mention that home sweet home is not quite as sweet, or as warm, as we might like to think. Those of you who live in Michigan, or anywhere, for that matter, where the weather has turned prematurely polar, might know what I’m talking about. Here are just a few ways Elsa’s icy magic creeps into our own houses:

Mudroom Minefield

The worst feeling in the world is quite possibly experienced when one enters his or her home, removes his or her shoe, and accidentally places his or her stocking-clad foot into a fresh and freezing puddle of melted snow. This simple act accounts for the vast number of sighs, grumbles, and exclamations such as, “Aw, nuts!”, “Oh shoot!”, and “Dangnabbit!” coming from mudrooms and entryways all over the Midwest.

Wing with the Window

Throughout the fall months my mother keeps a window in a small back room open so the room will stay cool enough to store vegetables and pantry items. This worked wonderfully throughout the past few months, but when I went in last week to grab some olive oil I felt like I was living through the scene in The Empire Strikes Back when Han Solo gets frozen in carbonite. After thawing me out, my mom decided to close the window for the time being.

Brrr! in the Bedroom

Every house has “that room.” The room that is coldest in the winter. The room that causes goosebumps to appear upon entering. The room that feels every gust of wind like it was a bulldozer demolishing a sandcastle. “That room” in the Connelly household just happens to be Shannon’s and my bedroom. Needless to say, Shannon and I haven’t seen each other in the past couple weeks. I only assume she still sleeps there because of the breathing pile of blankets that appear on her bed at 10:30pm every night.

Warm Warm-Up Room

Not all the rooms in our house are as cold as my bedroom, and most are extremely pleasant. In fact, the room with the furnace in our basement is downright balmy. I really should take advantage of this more often, but since the furnace room is also where we keep the elliptical machine, the only time I’m down there is when I’m pounding the pedals to the beat of Taylor Swift or the like. Talk about shaking it off! Who needs a vacation to Florida when you’ve got a setup like that?

Driveway of Doom

In the middle of June the journey from front door to car door is a walk in the park. In the middle of January (or in this case, November), it becomes an Arctic trek from which some never return. The first feat is to figure out which snow heap your vehicle is really under. Depending on how bad the weather is, this could take a while, so it’s advisable to bring nutritional sustenance. Once the location of the vehicle is determined, the video game-like adventure begins in which snow drifts, black ice, and slippery slush all get in the way of you entering the car you’d rather stay out of anyway because it’s going to be freezing in there (but that’s another subject).

This journey is especially demanding for the ladies, as it requires fancy footwork to get along with any type of heels or platforms. The suggested equation for figuring out how long it will take to get to your car in your fave stilettos is pretty simple: just double the time it takes in flats with every added inch of heel. For example, it takes me 14.5 minutes (not including a 30 second break to sip my tea) in my flat equestrian boots, but with one-inch wedges it take me 29 minutes (not including a 30 second tea break, 45 second snack break, and 1.6 minutes of falling flat on my face and gathering myself back up again).

All in all, I’m pretty thankful to live in such a comfortable home, but I can’t help but laugh over these tiny things that take such command of our day-to-day lives during the winter (and sometimes fall and/or spring) months. I hope you are staying snug in your own homes and are able to smile over the tiny setbacks.


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