Cold Feet

You know the little battle you have with yourself, about getting out of bed in winter? Getting up in the summer is a breeze - the sun is up, peeking through the curtains and practically singing you out of bed. It’s warm, but not too hot - a perfect time for a walk, to admire people’s gardens and see as many dogs out for their walks as possible. Plus, all this delight is happening at what would typically be an ungodly hour, so you have the rest of your day in front of you - what could be better? But, dear reader, we are not in the Merry Month of May - it is still January. I lay awake this morning, well before 6 am, dreading the impending alarm, and knowing in my heart of hearts that I would have to put my feet on the floor, where they would immediately freeze and stay frozen the rest of the day. I fought with myself - the upper part of my mind listing off the things I had to accomplish this morning, while the lower, reptilian part of my brain simply hissed ‘waaaarrrrrmmm’ and rolled over without another word. In just a few minutes, I will have to put on every piece of clothing I own and brave the frigid temperatures and the windchill, the snow blustering and the death rattle of the wind, which seems to blow directly in your face no matter which way you turn.

I was reminded this morning, though, of a section of the great Ruth Goodman’s How to Be A Victorian in which she extolls the virtues of mats or rugs, especially in the bedroom. (Also, if you haven’t read Goodman’s How to Be A Victorian or any of her other works, run, don’t walk - they are splendid. She is a social historian who spends months or years living in different periods of history, some of which are filmed and available online for FREE, dear reader, and much of which she has published in her many books. Also, she is hilarious. I promise this isn’t sponsored by Ruth Goodman: I’m just a fan.) Textiles of just about any sort were expensive, so even second-hand mats or rugs made from scraps, like Marilla's braided rugs, would have been out of reach for many people. But what a difference they make! As much as I whinge and moan about getting out of bed and feeling cold the rest of the day, I can (and should) be grateful for a rug by my bedside, and a heated home - no fires or potbelly stoves required! In a Victorian house, the presence or absence of a floor covering to mitigate the cold might have taken the chill out of the morning for those who got up before the fires were lit. All this to say that I am feeling the winter blues pretty intensely this morning, dear reader, but warmed slightly (very slightly) at the thought of my rug and knowing that, joy of joys, I will return to the warmth and comfort of my bed (complete with heavy blanket and purring cat) before too long.

Jennifer