I Have a Long Neck

The average temperature here is in the 20s this week. We have snow on the ground. And in the trees and bushes and all other things outdoors. It's not melting. I'm okay with that. The scenery is glorious.

My turtlenecks, the staple of my winter wardrobe, all of them, are still in storage in our attic. I'm not okay with that.

I cannot be the only one who feels it: truly, is there anything more comforting as one dresses on a frigid winter morn than pulling on a fresh-smelling turtleneck as the base for what will layer into pleasing and seasonally-appropriate attire? My turtlenecks. I wear them everywhere. My winter foundation.

Yet now, when I need them most, they languish in the attic.

See, it's rather a production to retrieve them. My winter clothes are heavy; the container, loving packed last spring, is unwieldy. The attic stairs, while expertly installed, are more like a ladder and, as such, are fraught with peril should one attempt to navigate them bearing heavy loads. It's a job for Two and I never seem to think about it when Two are home.

Our storage systems are less than perfect.
We make do.
Or do without, as the case may be.


Note to self: Next house, bigger closets.

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