I came to the realization this morning that I like winter more than I ever let on. I think it started when I was little and saw the Empire Strikes Back. The opening scene with Luke on his Tauntaun, traversing the landscape of Hoth in a blizzard struck a chord with me. When you’re a kid in Grande Prairie, winter is all you have. Summer had bikes, and sprinklers, but winter had GT’s, snow forts, snowmobiling and sleigh rides. I felt like if Luke Skywalker (kid from a desert planet) and Han Solo could handle the cold without a complaint, then a Canadian boy could do the same.

Since then, I’ve been plagued with some heavy seasonal depression which has always made me dread the end of the summer—but I had a moment of clarity this morning. I love winter. I love wearing sweaters, I love scarves and I love warm drinks next to faux fireplaces blowing real heat. I love being cozy, and I love shutting off all of the lights, save for the Christmas tree, while I watch garbage movies like Home for the Holidays and swoon over the not-a-girl-not-yet-a-woman phase of Johnathan Taylor Thomas.

But let’s get real—sweaters are the real MVP of the post-Remembrance Day holiday season. You have big bulky mothers for lounging, dressy ones for working—ugly ass Christmas bitches for parties and everyone’s favourite: the handmade gift sweater that always crosses into one of the three previous categories. Myself? I have three really nice knit-type sweaters and a nice cardigan for working in, and my pride and fucking joy: the basset hound hoodie.

See, I wasn’t always this cool. I’ve gleaned a lot from the people around me over the years, and finally, I think I’m cool. If it weren’t for my now ex-wife, I wouldn’t have this sweater today. It was two years ago that she was lost on Instagram and stumbled upon a recommended account that sold silk screened basset hound gear. It took a little convincing, because I didn’t think we needed to spend eighty dollars on two sweaters we’d wear once, but boy, was I wrong. She got me on board and when they arrived, we were beside ourselves. I’ll let the photo speak for itself.


The only way you could top this sweater (in my mind), is by knitting it from scratch with the basset face patterned in. (Which I would pay for, if you, dear reader, are feeling ambitious).

I love that I have time and free headspace to talk about sweaters and Christmas. A few simple conversations that I was dreading helped pave the way to more headspace, and now I feel ready to work again—both personally and professionally. I’m going to finish the story I’m working on tonight. That’s my goal and I’m gonna kill it because I’ve been killin’ everything today.

I don’t have a cute outfit to post about because I wore a pretty plain Jane one today—one that you could click back a few posts and see it, so I’m just going to leave without ceremony.

See you tomorrow.