A couple of weeks ago, I wished for snow in Toronto. Yeah, that’s right. I like snow. It’s pretty. This city is really ugly in the winter and needs a blanket to cover up. Mother Nature obliged with a few light snowstorms (nowhere near the 80 inches that Boston has, that’s way taller than my sister), and I was happy.
{via} (Don’t ask me what episode this is from, I’m not good with the newer ones)
Prettier, right?
I did not, however, wish for this.
That’s fucking cold. Almost to the point that the “feels like” temperature is about the same in Fahrenheit. (-13F, feels like -36F.) I don’t think I’m leaving my condo today. Even my recently-purchased parka (I finally caved and bought one, on sale) won’t help.
Soia & Kyo Delphie coat – it’s a little long on me, a little puffy, maybe not the most flattering thing I’ve ever put on my body, but it is WARM. It’s like wearing a duvet. Or a sleeping bag.
And I love the hood (it’s made of Asiatic raccoon fur--sorry, PETA):
I know spring will come soon enough, so I’ll enjoy the snow while it’s here, and stay inside on the couch under four layers of quilts until then.