A rant about how I got cold last night and now it won’t let me go.
Today was a Cream of Wheat morning. With milk. And strawberries.
Compared to other cities, towns, homes, whatever, I shouldn’t complain about the weather this time of year…….but then I do anyway. The chill creeps in at night and sticks with me most of the morning. I try to push it off with things like steamy cooked cereals, hot showers and stripy knee-high socks that leave indents in my skin by the end of the day.
In terms of Blue Bungalow life, this is the time of year where our power bill drops down to a decent charge but then our gas bill begins its climb up.
In terms of Motherhood, this is the time of year where I want to keep my children home, wrapped up in blankets and read books together, or just break out the Christmas movies.
There is something deceptive about the seasons in the desert. The leaves finally start to change about now. I’ve been waiting for it to happen for a month now. I do that every year. I hold my arms out, ready to hug Autumn and then the weather goes from blazing hot to………perfect. 75 degree weather and and finally think “I love it here”. My mind temporarily forgets the traditional idea of Autumn for a while. But, then, I’m caught off guard. The cold finally hits. And though this metaphoric assault is so much softer here than in most parts of the country, it still gets to me. I’ve been tricked, pulled into dream land with this easy weather and then it gets taken away. Like that.
I resent this teasing season.
And so do my toes.
Now that I’ve been a big baby, tell me:
What did you have breakfast?
How is your day going?
Are you as cold as I feel right now?