Get you a partner who loves all your favorite activities…and isn’t the least bit fazed by single-digit temps when it’s time to go out and be active.
It was 3 degrees in the sun when we hit the slopes for our annual ski trip — first time in New England; woo! Different world!— and my husband took his hands out of his gloves multiple times to snap us some pics. No cell phone camera could do justice to the breathtaking majesty of the winter landscape we beheld at Bolton Valley Resort, but you can at least tell by the icicles in our hair that I’m not kidding about the cold.
J-P and I have never been ones to let something silly like “extremes conditions” keep us from enjoying our outdoor adventures. (See past posts from Elk Mountain, PA, and Ithaca, NY.)
It took me two weeks to get around to writing this reflection, and the weather here in suburban Philly today (Valentine’s Day) is positively balmy compared to what we were dealing in late January.
The day before we were supposed to leave for Vermont, the water line from the street to our house froze, and of course, I didn’t realize all the faucets and flushers were dead until after I’d brewed and drank a pot of coffee. J-P was still in New Orleans on business, due to fly back that afternoon, and the only immediate solution I could think of was to bundle up and trudge down the street to the state park to pee.
It’s a good thing I’m a hardened Chicago-born nature girl, because when I did get my unwashed butt/bursting bladder to the only restrooms they’ve got open for the season, this is what greeted me:
I’ll spare you the pic I took, and jokingly texted to J-P, of the yellow spots in the snow all around the building. Apparently, I wasn’t the only neighbor driven to indecent exposure in the frozen tundra of Tyler State that Thursday morning.
Hey, we need our nature fix, and when you gotta go…🤷🏼♀️
It can get pretty raw and rugged in the wintertime, but it’s fine. I embrace it. I mean, who am I to complain about a minor inconvenience here in 2026, when our brave compatriots in Minnesota have been freezing and fighting for their lives all year long (how has it only been 1 1/2 months)? It’s a tremendous privilege to be free, have access, feel safe, find comfort, and not be hunted and terrorized by those who are supposed to protect and serve your community.
Our pipes didn’t burst, and service was eventually restored, thanks to two kind souls from the local artesian water company. Within 24 hours of peeing in the park, I was cozied up with J-P in a rental home in South Burlington, VT, watching “Stranger Things” (we are finally through Season 4), feasting on takeout sushi, and feeling extremely grateful.
I’m a bit of a broken record at this point, reflecting on my relationship with my higher power. If you know me, you expect to catch me outside in blizzards, subzero temps, pitch-black darkness…
Hell, even if you don’t know me…
Back in January when J-P was out of town and we got a foot of snow in one weekend, I took a break from shoveling out my car to take a walk around the block, and as I was passing one row of townhouses just down our street, a woman in her bathrobe opened her back door and yelled out:
“You’re like the mailman! Nothing stops you!”
Yep; every neighborhood has that one Crazy Walking Person, and…well, we’re so close to Tyler that I feel like I’m just one of several Town Wanderers. And who can blame me/us? I feel like anyone who’s truly living in, and paying attention to, reality at this moment needs “all hands on deck” when it comes to coping outlets.
Especially for folks in perimenopause! I mean, you wanna talk about uncomfortable temperatures? I’ll take an open-air outhouse over a living room sweat lodge any day! 🥵🔥
Without my daily dose of the great outdoors, I can’t even fathom how I’d be able to stay sane, sober, or useful to others in my role as a therapist. I simply can’t afford to be bothered by a little bit of cold.
Frozen cheeks (🥶🍑🤭) are no big deal, compared to how I could choose to numb out.
It’s debatable how well I’m doing with the sanity and usefulness these days. The cracks have certainly shown from time to time, and I have days when it feels like it all might crumble, or I want to quit. The injustice and relentless suffering we endure or bear witness to, in our personal and professional relationships, the streets of our cities, or the unbelievably cruel human world at large…it’s enough to freeze us in perpetual terror, engulf us in a bonfire of rage, or drown us slowly in tepid, nihilistic hopelessness.
I continue to face this life sober — as of now, I’ve been alcohol-free for 79 months plus 7 days — because as hard as the struggle can seem, a drink just never seems like a viable solution.
I know it to be the opposite, actually, and why would I respond to a world full of pain by hurting myself, which by extension hurts my husband, my clients, my community? How can I contribute at all to the greater good, the fight for democracy, civility, humanity, if I’m busy waging no-win internal battles just to escape responsibility and avoid discomfort?
All I have in my life today, I have because I am sober. I am sober because I’m tough, strong, disciplined, and I give a shit about how I show up in the world, but also because I’m fortunate. I’m privileged. Everything I’ve been able to build over the past 6 1/2 years, climbing out of the rock-bottom hole I dug for myself…it all sits on a foundation of good luck, unearned advantage, and unwavering love and support that I have not always deserved.
I must remember not to take any of it for granted.
February finds me thankful for my healthy outlets and resources and the soft places I can land when I fall — which I do, often, whether I’m “over my skis” trying to navigate unexpected moguls in the Green Mountains, or feeling out of my depth trying to maintain a full-time therapy caseload. Whatever happens out there in the cold, hard world, I can come home to a warm, cozy home with running water, good food, and a loving, accepting, supportive spouse with whom I’m personally, spiritually, and politically sympatico.
If I’m patient enough to wait as he gets all his gear together (⏳), he will step outside and brave the cold with me. He’ll offer me his hand to let me know I’m not alone, or he’ll bravely de-glove it, if I ask him to capture a memory to post on my blog.
When we’re together, no matter the weather, all is right in my world…even if I’m too frostbitten at the time to fully feel it. 💙
Jen Wielgus Journalism 