Blue heart energy, because your actual heart froze solid somewhere around the third week of January and it never fully thawed. This is love, North Dakota style: windchill that sounds like a typo, a horizon so flat you can watch your dog run away for three days, and a wind that comes across the prairie like it owes you money and wants to fight about it.
But you stay. You eat hotdish at every funeral, potluck, and mild inconvenience. You drag a little shack onto a frozen lake and call it recreation. You know the gas station with the good broasted chicken and you'd defend it in court. That's not seasonal affective disorder, that's devotion with a blue tint.
Soft, substantial fabric that holds up to layering, shoveling, tailgating in questionable temperatures, and about nine months of continuous wear. The kind of cozy that doesn't quit after one wash, with a fit that works whether you're running errands or hiding from the wind.
