It is early October in Chicago and temperatures have tumbled recently, especially along the lakeshore. On an early morning walk today it was the kind of damp and windy weather that left my teeth chattering and my brain wondering WHY I live here.

There is no escaping it. It is time for “sock weather.”

I am not one to rush into wearing socks. Once they are on, it is a long slippery slope that only ends in winter heartache; snow, slush, ice and freezing winds.

For the short term, I don my long down coat with my clogs without socks. Like a ragamuffin child I head out the door for a walk with Buddy. OK, I know this is not a fashion forward statement. Actually, because I am short it is difficult to discern which end is up when I wear this coat but avoiding the cold trumps appearance; no matter how ridiculous I look.

And Buddy?

Buddy has a sweater with a hood. My sons think he looks ridiculous in it. I think he looks adorable, but it really doesn’t matter what he looks like, because he gets cold too.

So off we go for a walk, no socks yet. I am holding out for awhile.

We may look a little odd, but we won’t be cold, my Buddy and me.

“Cloudy
The sky is gray and white and cloudy
Sometimes I think it’s hanging down on me
And it’s a hitchhike a hundred miles
I’m a rag-a-muffin child
Pointed finger-painted smile
I left my shadow waiting down the road for me a while.” Paul Simon