Three sweatshirts, two long sleeve shirts, one undershirt, a jacket made for the sketchy sport of snowmobiling, long johns (a.k.a. "long underwear"), jeans, three pairs of socks (one wool, one fuzzy, one designed for cross country snow skiing), HUGE boots, one pair of gloves, one pair of mittens, a scarf, and a hat/headband designed to warm one's ears.  Sweatshirt hood up.  I think I'm ready to go to the grocery store.

I spent the last week in Berlin, New Hampshire, nestled in a picturesque home in the, well, dead of winter.  Accustomed to temperatures that range from 60 to 80, I thought surely a sweatshirt and jacket would be suffice in the New England climate.  I was wrong.  Very wrong.

The introductory layers that I listed where not only the layers that I sported for merely quick trips to the grocery store, but they also insulated me during heater blasting car trips and the rapidly familiar kitchen furnace.  Long story short: I've spent the last six days frozen.  

True, choosing to venture to New England when temperatures range from (-)10 - 20 degrees (on average) was not the smartest thing I have ever done.  Especially considering I get "the shivers" in 50 degree weather.  But coming to this part of the country was certainly not the dumbest thing I've done either.

Birch trees, silver maples, majestic pines, and streams powdered with snow, made this trip feel as though I was living in a snow globe -- it was breath taking.  Sure LA is warm, but let's admit that the smog laden "City of Concrete" is only breathtaking in a literal sense.  Though I would argue that however fresh the New Hampshire country air may be, -7 degrees shooting through ones lungs with the gust of a wind chill isn't exactly gentle on the lungs either.

Regardless, the thought of New England in the Fall is enough to make me consider braving such a winter.  Driving through Maine, Vermont, part of Canada, and New Hampshire introduced me to some of the most beautiful countryside.  Oh, and the white farm homes with the green or red shutters.  The porches that view the expansive fields .  The creeks that run through the forest in acres of backyard.  Makes one feel a little sick to be living in Southern California.  I'm convinced such foliage, nature, and space found in New England is far better for the soul.  But then again, I'm convinced the frigid cold is detrimental to the soul.

But what do I know.

I think I'd like to purchase a "fixer-uper home," possibly in Maine (by the sea of course), and rent it out during the year, but vacation there frequently -- of course being sure to avoid winter exposure.