It got up to 59 degrees today. Now it has dropped to 40-something and still dropping. I started the day in a skirt, the first one I have worn in months; high heels, the first time without boots since December and a sweater instead of my pink fur coat (no animals died or dyed for the coat!). No gloves. No socks. I felt even lighter than the 20- odd pounds I have lost.
Tonight I sit in my LaZ-Boy, the sweater still wrapped around me. I have an electric throw turned up to ten. Socks on my feet. I am sick of being cold.
I keep thinking about moving south, trading the snow and ice (or in today's case, mud) for sandy beaches and constant sunshine. My old friend Beth could show me how to live on the coast, or Randy could show me around Miami. Tim could teach me the joys of beach living, or Cora and Sue could help me learn my way around Atlanta. Jj would take me into San Francisco, and Diane would make me feel at home in Cocoa.... There are any number of places where it isn't raining or snowing. I just live somewhere where it may do it all in one day.
I can't go, not permanently anyway. I would miss my dog, my kids, my grandkids. I would miss the way the ice sparkles when it clings to every twig in winter and the way the snow crunches when it is 15 degrees. I would miss the first crocus of spring, the mosquito-free May and the concord grapes that only Erie County, Pennsylvania can grow. I would like to visit those other places--swim with the dolphins, visit Daytona and the Golden Gate, go out on the ocean in a sailboat. Most of them are on my Bucket List (see blog story!).
Erie, PA has been my home always. I can't imagine living anywhere else. I will turn up the heat, put on my gloves and boots and two pairs of socks and wait sullenly for our too-short summer.
I am still cold.
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