All through November and December, I’ve been bragging about how I’m committed to year round kayaking. I just put layers over my wet suit and off I go. Then someone left the back door to Canada open this week. I’m not kayaking with lows in the teens and “highs” creeping up on upper thirties. In fact, I’m not going outside much at all. A trip or two to the wood pile for more oak, ash bucket carried out to the compost pile and that’s about it. I sit here typing, one room removed from the wood stove and even in flannel lined jeans and a flannel shirt, I’m chilly. The cats are smarter. They’ve hardly left the living room for days. They have progressed this morning from the hearth rug to the chairs, must be warming up a bit in there. I miss kayaking, but not enough to go out at this temperature!
