It was twenty-one degrees when I went on a walk this morning through the arboretum and I could feel every single degree through the forty-two layers of heavy clothing I was wearing. I kept up a brisk pace along the whole length of the walk over uneven ground and I never once felt like I was warming up at all. One of those days.
That said, I love my oboze shoes, which have kept my feet from freezing in every kind of weather. They’re waterproof and they must have some kind of magical insulation because my feet never get cold in them. This morning they were not what I could call toasty warm no matter how I stretched the definition, but they were never cold. My hands were colder than my feet in spite of the thick double-layer mittens I had pulled over my woolen gloves.
This Is Drivel 