By the end of last winter, I was a hardened Winter Warrior. With my hat and coat and scarf and gloves and my flinty exterior, I could walk through sub-zero temperatures and polar breezes without flinching. In fact, I found the chill bracing.
Now, an all-too-brief spring and summer and autumn later, I find that I’m once again a candy ass who shivers when walking out into temperatures in the teens and feels like all color has been blanched from my face by a brisk wind. It’s kind of embarrassing.
My grandmother would say that I’ve become thin-blooded. It’s what she said about people who complained about the cold temperatures and snow and weren’t ready to brave the Midwestern winters.
Of course, blood is blood. Any scientist would tell you that it doesn’t become thicker during the harsh winter and thinner when the thermometer hits the 70s and 80s. But I always think of the thin blood concept when the first arctic blast hits the Midwest. It’s time to get out in the frosty air and thicken that blood up to prepare for the winter to come.