“A snowball in the face is surely the perfect beginning to a lasting friendship.” Markus Zusak, Australian writer, The Book Thief
It is freezing here. Literally. Snow is falling outside the window seat where I am working. Tiny flakes, but it’s dense enough one can tell it means business without consulting The Weather Channel. Yet more snow is expected later this week.
This is OK with me, not that my opinion matters. I like snow. I especially like snow that leads to noisy Saturdays with everyone “stuck” in the house, wet boots lined up on towels and chili simmering on the stove.
I do not, however, like being cold. This is a problem as our house is “historic,” which is real-estate talk for “drafty.”
To combat all this, well, history, I wear lots of layers. I wear woolly socks so thick my shoes do not fit properly. (I would wear a knitted hat 24 hours a day if mid-life women could do such a thing without being accused of trying to look like a millennial.)
And, most importantly, I use hot socks. I cannot remember where I learned about such a thing, but they are brilliant, simple and inexpensive. Take a sock (cotton, or it will smell plasticky when microwaved) and fill it with 2-3 cups of brown rice (any other kind of rice will soon turn into powder.)
Microwaved 2 or 3 minutes, these socks can warm a bed before you get in it, help bread dough rise (as pictured above), warm your fingers after an outdoor adventure or wrap around an ache or injury in the most satisfying way.
A tiny warning: They can also start a fire if you accidentally press “30” on the microwave instead of “3,” which shouldn’t have happened, but once did. They also require care if using with a young child or any other person who may be unaware of or unable to communicate a burning sensation.