January

January.

2018

Another year.  Another fresh start.  I really love New Year’s.  I love the purge.  I love the beginning.  What I don’t love is January.  

January.  

It’s awful.  Especially in Philadelphia.  It’s like a Phoenix April—not the worst month but rather, a painful, depressing reminder that things will get worse.  It’s cold.  Frigid in fact.  The temperature has dipped below 30 degrees and promises to remain there for at least a week, hovering occasionally in the 40s and then back down.  We did get one day of 60 but it was just a tease.  There’s more snow than I’d care for in the forecast and that’s just the next fifteen days.  And then, comes February.  The shortest long month in the calendar.

I’ve become a weather wimp.  The dessert and the west coast have made me soft.  I may have never acclimated to the Arizona heat but I have most definitely not acclimated to the depressing east coast winters.  They are horrid. 

I want to live in a place that’s perpetually fall.  Autumn—now, there’s a season!  Everyone looks forward to it.  Everyone—it brings cool, temperate weather.  Pretty landscapes and of course, the fall holidays.  I’ve lived in perpetual spring (San Diego).  But where is perpetual fall?  When that place shows up, I’ll be home. 

Comments

J. said…
Your Phoenix April is my San Antonio July. July, August, and September are miserably hot. The weather got up to 109 this week (yeah yeah, you have had worse).

I too love fall, baseball playoffs, college football, and hockey season, not to mention pumpkin everything. Sadly we don't get it until November.
7:37 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Easter

It’s Holy Week.  I remember being confused by so many pieces of Easter when I was young.  Why was it called Good Friday if Jesus died?  Wasn’t that BAD Friday?  Why did we eat so much fish?  Ick.  Why did it always seem to be a gloomy, rainy, week?  Did God do that on purpose?  How could Jesus ride into the city of Jerusalem with such fanfare on Sunday and be beaten so brutally just 6 days later?  As I’ve grown in my faith and age, I understand so much more.  When Mel Gibson’s Passion of the Christ played in theaters, I went to see it.  My sobs could hardly be heard over the sobs of others.  This wasn’t a movie where you munched on popcorn and sipped a soft drink.  This was a chore—a duty as a Christian to come face to face with the brutality endured by our Savior.  To come to terms with what He experienced so that I could, what?  Show up late to work with no excuse?  Watch movies with foul language?  Tell the occasional lie and not suffer the consequences?  Was it worth it?  What jus
Read more

Shoes=Outside

Image
When Nick comes inside from anywhere, he takes off his socks and shoes. He just likes to be barefoot inside. He also doesn't like shoes on the couch or beds, so when Ivy's inside, most of the time, her shoes and socks come off too. Naturally, this necessitates putting shoes on when we've been home and then decide to go somewhere. Ivy seems to understand this. She LOVES to be outside. She's tall enough to reach the door knob, so it's locked all the time now. She'll go up to the door, try to turn the handle and say "side" when she wants to go outside (which is all the time). When she sees one of us putting our shoes on, she naturally goes to the door and says "side". Yesterday, Nick took Ivy out to the pool for a while before I got home from work. They put their feet in the pool and splashed a bit, but no real swimming (water is still cold). When I got home, they were back inside, shoes off. Ivy wasn't quite done being outside for the day.
Read more

The Wonderful World of Meat Substitutes

I didn’t become a vegetarian until a little over two years ago. I used to think it would be absolutely impossible for me to do—I’m in love with chicken! Can’t give that up. No way. Well, clearly, I did give it up (although so many non-vegetarians say things to me like “you eat chicken, right? Chicken’s a vegetable.” Um, no.). I often encounter someone that is unaware of my food lifestyle and after the initial shock wears off, they want to know if I miss meat. The answer is a resounding no. I hardly notice it at all. I won’t go into why I don’t eat meat (not now anyway). There are different types of vegetarians. I am what is known as a lacto-ovo vegetarian—I eat eggs and diary but nothing that used to crawl, swim, walk or fly. No chicken, no cow, no pig, no lamb, no fish. (Nick and I went to a restaurant today that basically wanted to know how you want your beef cooked, but did include two of what they called “Meatless sandwiches”. They included fried fish and baked fish.
Read more