Winter Cold Remedy

The ice age era is upon us or, at least, upon those of us who feel they have acclimatized to the wintery continental weather, yet are as comfortable with temperatures below zero as much as tractors are accustomed to running on rubbing alcohol. Among the followers of this particular category is also my cold-oppressed self, who underwent a wonderful experience just yesterday, when I had the privilege to stand in the cold and snow for no less than three hours. By ‘stand’ I really mean stand and/or sit while the walking part took too little to be mentioned here. The reason, you ask? Well, simply taking pictures.

You might ask yourself why I would up and snap shots in the cold and then complain about it. Well, of course, nothing is as simple as it appears at first glance: first of all, I went outside to learn how to take pictures during a photography course I’m taking so it was not exactly my unrestrained wish. Second, this was the first practical session I took part in so I couldn’t complain much on the spot (although, God knows I’d have loved to be able to do so!). and third, I omitted donning my skiing outfit while strolling through a local park but, had I known that winter photography can be easily compared to arctic expeditions, I’d have thought better of it.

You see, photography requires, among other things, working hands, preferably non-shaking  ones, and, trust me, gloves fail to serve any purpose in such a situation, because taking pictures with gloves on is worse than having animals without opposable thumbs do it. Also, frosted, non-responding feet tend to complicate matters more, because – as one might know from merely walking – joints have to work properly in order to carry you around. Ears? Who needs them; they can be left outside, subject to the piercing cold, and a person like me is reluctant to wear hats (especially considering the size of a hat that would contain my dreadlocks). And red ears make for a very nice, camera-friendly contrast to the snowy surroundings. Nose? Don't even mention it! Although you might not be very interested to know, its functions work abnormally well in dire conditions (if the goal is to produce a protective film of frozen mucus all the way to your lower lip).

So, after some three hours of doing this (although ill-omened rumours said it wasn’t that cold), I drove stiff as a crash-test dummy straight into a hot bath hoping to regain some sense in my limbs and to be able to properly articulate words again. And, after soaking for a while, the thick layer of ice finally melted, revealing my pink-complexioned tegument all warm and fuzzy... until I left the bathroom and realized that the rest of the house is not as cosy and snug as were my expectations. The only sensible thing to do was get into bed and hope to sleep the cold off; only that proved to be more difficult than I imagined: I was still refrigerated and the sneezing wouldn’t stop. So I turned to the last resort my mind was able to produce: I clapped together a winter jogging outfit any true athlete would have envied me for, with which, I decided, I wouldn’t suffer any more. I found some woollen socks, a jacket and – la piece du resistance – a woollen hat. Which I wore. To sleep.