Once again, we dodged a bullet this past week, weather-wise. Yes. We got wet. Very wet. We got record amounts of rain driven by whipping, tree-toppling, power-outing winds. I haven’t been able to find the actual inches of rainfall yet but one of my sons had the lid blow off one of his 30-gallon trash cans and it filled to overflowing. That is a whopping lot of rain.

We had widespread power outages, some for a day and half. We had localized flooding and damage. We had sewers backing up from leech fields that couldn’t handle the deluge. We had brooklets turn into raging streams.

What we didn’t have was the brunt of the “bomb cyclone” that ravaged wide swaths through many states as it raged up south to north, state after state, causing dozens of deaths, huge traffic pile-ups, thick wind-whipped white ice encapsulating whole buildings and cars in eerie, ghostly shapes.

As I write this, Sunday night, some states are still in the monster’s grip. One of my granddaughters lives in Nashville. When the rains hit here last week, and we were in the 30s, she woke up to a thermometer that read 3 degrees and the wind chill factor was -25. Bizzaro.

We’re having a bit of reprieve with the weather this week. We’re heading into the 40s for several days. Enjoy it, ’cause that’s it for a couple-three months — well, we may get a good old January thaw come mid-January. (My middle name isn’t “Hope” — literally — for nothing.)

But the only way around a Maine winter is straight through it and we Mainers know how to do it. Doesn’t do any good to moan and groan. The trick is to find things to do that we don’t have time for come the bustle of spring, summer and fall, which is mostly racing the calendar to get them done before winter sets in again.

For me, I try to dwell on the positives of our winters, big or small, like the lines of an old Bing Crosby song: “You’ve got to ac-cent-chu-ate the positive. E-lim-i-nate the negative. Latch on to the affirmative….”

One thing, small but helpful, has to do with clothing. Come the cold weather, switching to my winter coats and sweaters has its “positives.” I hate having to carry a purse with my wallet, phone, keys and such. But my winter coats, like my wonderful Woolrich jacket that I snatched up at half-price-day in a thrift shop for $5.50, that has four great pockets. They hold everything, hands-free.

My collection of wool sweaters that I picked up over four-five years is my winter wardrobe. I have one that will fit any skirt or pants that I choose for the day. One hundred percent wool is super warm. It stays warm even when wet. Lobstermen and hunters used to wear white wool socks and mittens, many of which they knit themselves. They used wool with the natural lanolin still in it. That adds to keeping in the warmth.

I had a cousin, a Maine Guide who knit his own socks along with more pairs to sell. No one ever questioned him — he stood 6 feet, 5 inches — about his knitting. Lobstermen’s mittens were knit a few sizes bigger than hand-size and shrunk down (felting) to make them denser and warmer. First thing going out in the morning, they’d put them on and then dunk their hands in the sea. They were going to get wet anyway but this sped up the process of the wool holding in the heat from their hands, reaching its magical protection level.

My wool sweater collection is “vintage” ski sweaters, mostly from England. They are also referred to as “Scandinavian.” They’re knit in beautiful patterns with three to five different colors. As the pattern is knit, each color is drawn along each row on the back, providing an extra layer of yarn. This results in super warmth. But wool has a couple of other advantages. It keeps you warm when needed but not to the point of being hot. Wool also doesn’t absorb body odor so they don’t need laundering like a shirt but only cleaned as often as a winter jacket. My sweaters originally sold for an average of $300-$350. I watched eBay like a hawk and picked them up one by one with a strict self-rule: Never pay more than $20.

I now have seven — and they don’t need ironing. So with not needing to be washed every week and no ironing, there’s extra time for other winter activities that there isn’t time for otherwise, like reading, knitting, painting, extra writing, handcrafts, and catching up on things. There is always plenty of the latter.

But they are tedious to hand-wash and block to dry. And the old cleaners are pretty much gone. So even L.L. Bean has turned to mostly blends. Blends don’t have the benefits. But there are dry cleaning sheets from “Woolite” that you can throw into the dryer with several sweaters and, voila, clean sweaters.

I also really enjoy, come winter nights, pulling on wool “bed socks” and climbing into a cocoon of blankets topped with my down comforter to pull up over my head. My “bed socks” — I splurged here and bought Alpaca wool socks — are merely socks a couple sizes larger than I wear. This leaves some extra air space between the socks and my feet. The air space holds in body warmth, providing warm toes. Warm toes equal warm sleep.

And then there are our wood stoves. Is there any heat to compare with the steadiness and soft scent from the wood stove?

These are a few of the things I use to make winter more likable, small things that add up.

And now here we are, a couple of feet from January, and seed catalogs will soon be coming. Many hours will be spent pouring over them, making and changing lists for the coming gardens. And then you can all but smell spring on the horizon.

And we’ve made it through another Maine winter. But don’t tell flatlanders how it’s done.

Marion Tucker-Honeycutt, an award-winning columnist, is a Maine native and graduate of Belfast schools. She lives in Morrill.