I live in the midwestern U.S. For my international readers, that means that while we do experience four distinct change of seasons, they overlap, intermingle and plain ol' intrude on each other like toddlers trying to share a snack bowl. I have no problem whatsoever with autumn borrowing a day or two from summer, summer borrowing half a season from spring, and so on. Where we run into an issue is when winter borrows one nanosecond from any of the other three.
If you know me personally, you are aware that I am a 100% warm weather kind of gal. I could go on for days about all of the things I looooooove about summatime. Sun on my SPF-50'ed face makes me happy, happy, happy. My chakras line up, my spleen clears, my serotonin level soars, and an invisible Jamaican steel drum band band follows me around in my mind wherever I go.
If you listen very, very closely, you can probably hear Bob Marley's "Three Little Birds" whenever I'm around. Probably helps if you have a Hurricane or two. Since it's currently 10:00 in the a.m. when I'm writing this and not exactly cocktail hour, I'll let YouTube give you an assist http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zaGUr6wzyT8
Anyway, if you live where I live, you know that Mother Nature has really put the smackdown on us this winter. Three major snowstorms in a month, the latest one coming at the end of March. When it's supposed to be spring. You know, daffodils, green grass and kite flying. My daffodils and the grass are buried under ten inches of white vomit, and the only thing currently flying outside is said vomit as my neighbor uses his two-stage snow blower on his driveway.
If you're a fan of winter, please spare me all of your comments about how pretty the snow is, blah, blah, friggin' blah. It's a little like trying to convince Billy Graham than Anton LaVay had some redeeming qualities. An extreme example perhaps, and I'm sure that Billy even prayed for Anton. Hate the sin, not the sinner and all. But there's no mistaking it. I. Hate. Winter.
If I had lived in the time of Moses and had been Pharaoh, the Lord surely would have made "Perpetual Winter" one of the ten plagues He placed upon Egypt to let the Israelites go. In His infinite wisdom and knowledge of all things that cause me to freak the freak out, He would have also included the following nine:
"Plague of Snakes"
"Plague of Decaf Coffee"
"Plague of Lo-Cal Desserts"
"Plague of the 60+ min Meeting"
"Plague of Caring for Vomiting Children"
"Plague of Unwashed People in My Bed"
"Plague of Homeschooling My Own Children"
"Plague of Raw Meat Juice Coming into Contact with Food Prep Surfaces"
"Plague of Grocery Shopping on a Weekend/Day Before a Major Holiday"
What can I say. I'm a reptilaphobic, germaphobic, agoraphobic, cold weather-hating caffeine junkie with a sweet tooth. And long meetings just suck. To know me is not to love everything about me. Just to know that none of those things is probably going to change this late in my life. And that acceptance is not synonymous with approval.
I remain grateful that the Lord (so far) hasn't seen fit to rain any plagues down on me, and any of the above annoyances or inconveniences the devil tries to send my way can be easily overcome with the Almighty's aid. As Joel Osteen says in one of my fave quotes, "Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you respond. Don't let anyone or anything steal your joy"
Bearing that in mind, I will try hard to remember that while the winter seems never-ending right now, it is just a season, and it will pass. And while I will never find beauty in white vomit, I can find it in the fact that when it finally melts, the Earth will show its greens and blues and pinks and yellows and all the other vibrant colors of the spring.
So when it comes, if you see me doing the Carolina Shag in my tank top and flip flops, and you don't seem to hear any music, that's okay. Just pull up a chair, grab some vitamin D and vibe to the Otis Redding playing inside my head. And enjoy the warmth. Ahhhhhh!
Sparkly Kisses,
D
