We've had a fairly mild winter so far, and it was even unseasonably temperate in Buffalo, NY, when we packed the car for our trip up here. You can't count on a warm snap like that to last in December, though, so I found my winter coat in the closet and tossed it on top of the suitcases and presents in the back of our station wagon.
Yesterday, when the temps were only in the low 20s at noon, I was glad I had. I slipped it on like an old friend as I bundled up to run a few errands. The blue of it was still as bright and cheery as ever, the black fleece inside just as warm and cozy. I reached into the pockets and found my mittens and lip balm just where I'd left them the last time I wore my coat, last winter. I also found a grocery list and movie ticket stubs dated January 30.
It was like a mini time capsule. When you're a child, coats need to be replaced every year, so fast do you grow and grow up, but as I looked at my grocery list and thought of the me who made it, it seemed amazing not how much has changed in nearly a year, but rather how little.
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