After attending a semi Sound of Music-based concert this past week, the title-mentioned song has been stuck in my head. It’s been days – days! And “these are a few of my favorite things” continues to cycle. Every once an awhile an “Edelweiss” or “You are 16, going on 17”* will make an appearance, but for the most part, it’s been non-stop.
Instead of dreading how miserable it’s been droning on and on, I’ve decided to put it to work. Here are a few of my favorite things – a la winter.
One for the office, and one that rolls between the living room and kitchen, my day would not be complete without hours huddling by this processed heat. Dollars well spent, I say.
I may have had to splurge for an actual adult size (the little girl versions were 6 inches too short), but it was well worth it. They’re a daily staple in my letting out the chickens … or just hanging out inside.
If you’ve never experienced the wonderful-ness that is propane heat, you’re missing out. It heats warmer, lasts longer, and gets delivered to the house in a neat tanker truck.
They may be somewhat scratchy, but when you already have on layers upon layers of clothes, it’s not like you can feel it anyway. These 10-pound blankets are great for staying cozy and warm on even the coldest of nights.
Manny’s indifference toward ice-cold feet
If my feet are cold, which is 98% of the time, I just shove them his direction and steal some warmth. Never once has he complained about their blue, frigid state.
Fleece-lined and with an extra knitted layer, these mittens were made for the coldest of coldies. Fingers can even huddle together to create excess body heat.
Twice per day – morning and night – the cats love to cuddle. Because they too hate being cold, they line up and plop on top of one another for maximum warmth efficiency. It’s like a moving, shedding blanket that sometimes licks.
*Can we talk about how Rolfe is the world’s biggest butthole? Like, Guinness World Record huge. After those nice nuns risked their lives, he just looks his girlfriend’s entire family in the face and said, “It’s time to die.” Even after Liesl went on that lame singing date; clearly no one else was lining up to be Mrs. Rolfe. Then he craps all over the only one who wasn’t repulsed by his supreme barfy-ness.
I once saw a live version where Rolfe just waves and says, “Have a nice trip.” (He probably would have given them travel coupons, too, if he’d had more warning.) Then the curtain closed and it was over. Although it was a happier story, I knew it was a lie. And I still hated him. #Rolfeistheworst