Living here in the Northern part of the Mid-West, we have a good deal of cold weather. This year we're also having a hefty amount of snow. If you've been born and raised here, it's not really a big deal. We've always had seasons like this and so we endure it and sometimes even enjoy it.
It makes me realize that one of the things I take great joy in is a true simple pleasure.
I like to be warm.
Over my life time here in the snowy Mid-West, I've developed a fine winter collection. I have thick corduroy pants. I have wool sweaters. I have soft turtlenecks. I have some very toasty shoes. I have a great winter coat and fabulous mittens. I have polar fleece jammies and flannel jammies. There are blankets on the chairs in front of the fireplace. The beds are all made up with soft flannel sheets and thick afghans. The kids have their own special store of polar fleece blankets. There are big, heavy sweatshirts, with hoods. No, not hoodies, real sweatshirts. I admit to having polar fleece socks. And wearing them often.
It occurs to me, on this very frigid day, that not everyone in my community has this luxury of warmth that I have. As the freezing days turn into weeks and months, I'll be very toasty, snug and cozy. I'll also be remembering that my simple pleasure--warmth--is a luxury to many.
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