We are in the middle of a blizzard. When I got up this morning and peered out the window, I could make out, through the haze of airborne snow and ice particles, fine and dusty snow, piled up like sand dunes across the back yard. These drifts had very helpfully piled away from my front door, so I was not trapped inside with my very patient dog who very much needed to go out. But there you are: blizzard, snow, and absolutely freezing temperatures (wind chill of -25 to -33!).
Yesterday, when there was the cold air mass minus the blizzard-proper, I dug out my Canada Goose coat and headed out to run errands so that I could spend today staying inside, drinking coffee, and writing lesson plans. It was my first time truly wearing my coat, and I figured that I might as well take the (chilly) opportunity to test-drive it, so that I could learn its ins and outs (the interior pocket; the zippered side pockets; the soft patch of fabric inside of the front zipper when it's done all the way up; the particularities of operating a very fuzzy hood) before stepping off the plane in Nunavut. Walking before running, and all of that.
And here is is what I learned about my coat: it is awesome. And so very warm. Unbelievably warm. I had on a t-shirt and a thin sweater; I didn't put on the extra layer I would normally use in my everyday-southern-cold jacket (still a very respectable Timberland with extremely unflattering saddlebag-style side pockets). But, even with my meagre under-parka clothes, I made it only about half a block before I had to take off my scarf and earmuffs because I was overheating. And, as I walked to and fro, here and there, I kept adjusting the height of my zipper to let in more air and keep my temperature reasonable. Even with the crazy wind chill, my coat is so warm that, even on this climate's chilliest days, it borders on sometimes too warm -- only until I figured out the zipper as climate-control, mind you. The fur ruff is incredible: with my hood up, it seems like the wind just can't penetrate. I could feel the warm air inside of the hood, trapped by the ruff, recirculating, refusing to be snatched away by the gusty cold air.
I am so pleased with my coat. I'm also just beginning to realize that I honestly and truly have no frame of reference for the cold I am going to experience in March when I head up, because yesterday was so cold, and I was able to walk around, very lightly dressed underneath my coat and still a little warmer than I expected. When I'm in Pond Inlet, it'll be my base layers, plus that sweatshirt, plus a light jacket, all underneath my insanely toasty parka. I understand that, but I don't get it, not in my bones.
It's a rather thrilling venture, to know you're going to be doing something that you can't yet grasp, to know you're headed to a place totally beyond your usual frame of reference. For now, it's back to planning for my southern practicum (which starts up again on Monday), watching the blizzard rage on outside of my window, and occasionally throwing on my lovely coat to go out with a rather unimpressed dog, who is equal parts fascinated with and intimidated by the coat I put on that turns me, he half-believes, into a were-coyote.
