WHen we were going to school, my dad was working in Wyoming, and he would always send flannel-lined Levis, flannel-lined Levi-jackets, and “sturdy” shoes, since we had to walk over a mile to school and back every day.
The more the jeans and jackets were washed, the higher the nap was on the flannel and the warmer the garment was. When one is nine years old, and slogging through 3’ of snow to school, one appreciates warm clothing.
There was a man who owned a draft horse (a bay, IIRC) and after the first snow, he would harness the horse (with bells!) onto a small triangular sledge. He would sit on the crude wooden seat and plow the sidewalks. I remember being so excited when I heard the bells that I would run outside to wave to him...barefooted!
I remember being cold, but not for a long time. We only lived in Rhode Island a few years ... 1968-70 and 1977-78. Deep snow, though.