Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Thoughts on a Winter Day......

The sun is shining brightly today with nary a cloud in sight. Most people love the sun and suffer with Seasonal Affective Disorder in long spells of cloudy weather, but I'm just the opposite. I love clouds, rain, and snow and thrive when sun is hidden by a thick gray cover. Yeah, guess that makes me weird.

I dread my old nemesis, summer. Such dread is not a new development in my dotage. No, I dreaded summer's arrival in childhood too. A flaming red face and sweat-plastered hair was never my preferred condition. So yes, I played outside with the siblings and neighbor kids but only because Mom hooked the screen doors and refused to let me sneak back in the house. The oscillating fan called my name back then. Now it's the central air.

For awhile in nursing school I tried to fit in with my tan-loving classmates. But that brief chapter ended with a trip to the emergency room sporting humongous blisters that waved as I walked. Any dream of being a blonde, tanned goddess ended as I stripped down to my underpants in front of a grinning E.R. doctor armed with sunburn spray. The sunburn spray didn't help, by the way, and I stayed sick for days with what he called "sun poisoning."

Hubby loves the sun and summer so our vacationing activities were geared to his preference. Wherever we are, he basks from sun up to sun down, energized by solar rays. Meanwhile, I'm gasping like a sick chicken, light headed and hotter than usual because I keep every square inch of my body covered with long sleeves, long pants, and a big hat. Me, I'd prefer vacationing in the winter, snowed in somewhere in the Rockies or maybe Iceland. But hubby shivers in the house in winter with the thermostat set at 74 degrees, so guess he'd never survive Iceland.

This has been a hard winter with big snows and harsh winds blowing out of the north driving wind chills way below zero. I've treasured every frigid moment because I know hot weather will be here soon, along with ticks, mosquitoes, flies, and endless days of blazing sunshine.

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I enjoy good writing by writers and poets who are not famous. My mother said I was born a hundred years too late. The older I get, the more I realize how right she was.

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