It is finally starting to feel like wintertime here this week, with nighttime temperatures in the teens and clear blue skies that play host to the deepest blue color I can imagine. No pale blue summer sky could ever compare to the depth of color that is displayed in the late fall and winter.

I awoke Monday morning to temperatures hovering around 17.6 degrees outside my house, at least according to my digital thermometer's reading. While that isn't all that cold for the winter, it's a sight colder than it's been so far this year.

I have had to get out the warmer coats and put away the thin jackets of fall, including the one that I lost and then found again. I had left it in a friend's basement, but he didn't mention that he had it for several weeks. I think he may have remembered it when I wrote about it in the column. I had gone over there to help him and a few other fellows move a motorcycle to the floor from a workbench, as I recall, and had taken it off to keep it from getting dirty. I just reached up and touched my face; I still have my glasses (for now).

Now is the time for parkas and heavy lined canvas coats, not to mention the old army surplus coat that I usually wear when working outside this time of year on cold days.

It's hard to believe that another year is come and gone, that the winter is here again after what seemed like such a short respite. Of course there have been many lovely days this fall, unseasonable warmth has been a blessing for those of us who work outside on weekends. Not to mention those who make their living outside, those hardy souls who work in building, agriculture and services that find themselves out in the elements every day.

I used to work outside every day and some days it was harder to take than others. One lesson I learned was that it is best to dress in layers whenever possible. I also learned that layers are always preferable to one big coat, which can't be shed when the sun gets warm or when the rigors of activity elevate the body temperature. The army jacket is perfect for that use, since I can remove the liner if need be and still wear the shell.

The other key I learned was to cover my head. Without a thick head of hair to start with, I know that much of my body heat is lost quickly through my head. Everyone is born with at least five holes in their head (seven if you count the eyes), so it is best to cover as many of them as possible when going out into the world with temps in the teens. I try to either wear a hat or a hood or both, according to the weather.

Of course, when running out to fetch firewood early in the morning, I at least put on my bathrobe and slippers, for the neighbor's sake if for no other reason.

In looking back at the year that has come and gone, I'm amazed at what a blur it has become in memory. There really isn't much there that really stands out, to be honest. Of course, there are a few special things that happened, but it seems like there should be more after living another year of life or so. But who's fault is that?

Maybe I should think about doing more memorable things as the clock ticks away here in December.

You know, I had so many big plans this year, from putting up a new building to finishing the porch, only some of them met their fruition. Due to an insurmountable lack of funding, the building has yet again been put on hold. Of course, the porch is done and, other than a few possible improvements to the decoration of the structure, it will not need more attention until I stain it sometime in the spring. The garden, at least to some degree, was a disappointment this year, even though the potatoes, beans and greens did very well. The biggest problem was the cucumbers, which didn't do well at all. The tomatoes weren't much better. With the exception of a few volunteer plants that really produced late in the season, there wasn't much to write home about there. That's particularly disappointing considering the amount of time we spend out in the sun tilling, pruning, picking and hoeing.

But none of that stuff will be an issue again until next year. As usual, I have a few minor projects to tackle inside the house, but nothing like the living room remodel I took on last year. Then again, winter isn't over with, either. If I start going stir crazy, I might tear something else up.

I haven't had much time or motivation to do much more than keep the saw to the firewood lately.

I have been helping a few friends cut their wood, who in turn will help me cut some for myself. It is always easier to go out and cut wood with a friend or two—and safer as well. All it takes is one simple mistake with a saw to put a body in the hospital for a good while; a major mistake could put a man in a pine box. At least if someone is along to help out, that person can help if you fell a tree over yourself or get cut with the saw.

When we head into the woods, we can usually come out with one load each without working too awful hard. I figure I might need two or three more of those to get through the winter and spring, with enough green left over to cure so I can get a good jump on next year. A few years ago I got so far behind on cutting that I ended up being out in the bitter cold working to get in enough wood to keep the stove going. I hope I never have to go through that mess again. I don't mind working outside when it is very cold, I just don't like having little choice. Everything is better when we have a choice, isn't it?

As I was heading home yesterday, I noticed the smoke coming out of the chimney and the lights twinkling on the Christmas tree. There was something about the picture that said good things, like "warm" and "safe" and "home." These are the kinds of things we all like to hear on a cold, blustery winter day.

Sometimes I come in and warm myself by the stove for a few minutes after being old in the cold. When standing there by the fire in the warmth of familiar surroundings, I know there is a comfort one can only find at home.

Get more tongue in cheek commentary this week's issue of the Alleghany News!

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