In California, it was hot in the summer and cold in the winter. Phoenix had two seasons: "hot" October through April and "hot as hell" May through September. Maryland was picture perfect, as in the calendar and Mother Nature were always in agreement with what the weather outside should be.
But in the Great Northwest where the sun is a rare commodity, that's where the problem lies. The usual free-spirit, make-love-not-war aura of these parts is quickly forgotten when the sun comes out. He's a dictator of sorts and we are the products of his communist ways. Nobody tells you this when you move here,you go into it blindly, but it's inevitable, live here long enough, and its iron grip will grab a hold of you too.
We will literally stop in our muddy tracks and scramble around in search of something to do ~ something that doesn't involve getting drenched the second we walk outside our front doors. Ironically, though, we can't wait to get drenched, and just like that, our arsenal of water toys are pulled out and dusted off: Balloons, guns, Slip and Slides.
Oh, the pressure! You feel inadequate, guilty, like a bad parent, if you don't maximize your time in the sun. Not to mention that you're depriving yourself and your kids that much-needed dose of Vitamin D.
So, while I admit that I am now one of them ~ the ones that get giddy over a ray of sun ~ there's also a part of me that feels some bitterness at the fact that I've succumbed to it yet again.
And while we're on the subject of bitter....a lot of folks around here have what they call "'Seasonal Depression." Not me. I have what I call "Seasonal Pissed Off."
It's a condition that occurs every year around February when there hasn't been a sighting of the sun in about five months and the drizzle has been constant for just as long, which, as a direct result, causes one to feel, well, PISSED!
So I wait, and wait, and wait. And then one day, there really is light, sunlight, and I remember just how much I love the sun.
This came totally unexpected! With a cheesy grin on my face I walk over to my closet and open the door to a plethora of leggings, jeans, and sweatshirts. Anything that resembles summer is packed in boxes under the bed; as I reach down to find them, I notice that my toenails haven't been touched in a long time and are in no way sandal-worthy; next, I catch a glimpse of my white and ashy legs ~ a mere second before I realize that any plans we had for the day have to be changed in the next two minutes and the "You-just-never-know-when-we'll-see-the-sun-again.....gotta-maximize-our-time," chants begin.
Did I mention my love/hate dilemma?
But in the Great Northwest where the sun is a rare commodity, that's where the problem lies. The usual free-spirit, make-love-not-war aura of these parts is quickly forgotten when the sun comes out. He's a dictator of sorts and we are the products of his communist ways. Nobody tells you this when you move here,you go into it blindly, but it's inevitable, live here long enough, and its iron grip will grab a hold of you too.
We will literally stop in our muddy tracks and scramble around in search of something to do ~ something that doesn't involve getting drenched the second we walk outside our front doors. Ironically, though, we can't wait to get drenched, and just like that, our arsenal of water toys are pulled out and dusted off: Balloons, guns, Slip and Slides.
Oh, the pressure! You feel inadequate, guilty, like a bad parent, if you don't maximize your time in the sun. Not to mention that you're depriving yourself and your kids that much-needed dose of Vitamin D.
So, while I admit that I am now one of them ~ the ones that get giddy over a ray of sun ~ there's also a part of me that feels some bitterness at the fact that I've succumbed to it yet again.
And while we're on the subject of bitter....a lot of folks around here have what they call "'Seasonal Depression." Not me. I have what I call "Seasonal Pissed Off."
It's a condition that occurs every year around February when there hasn't been a sighting of the sun in about five months and the drizzle has been constant for just as long, which, as a direct result, causes one to feel, well, PISSED!
So I wait, and wait, and wait. And then one day, there really is light, sunlight, and I remember just how much I love the sun.
This came totally unexpected! With a cheesy grin on my face I walk over to my closet and open the door to a plethora of leggings, jeans, and sweatshirts. Anything that resembles summer is packed in boxes under the bed; as I reach down to find them, I notice that my toenails haven't been touched in a long time and are in no way sandal-worthy; next, I catch a glimpse of my white and ashy legs ~ a mere second before I realize that any plans we had for the day have to be changed in the next two minutes and the "You-just-never-know-when-we'll-see-the-sun-again.....gotta-maximize-our-time," chants begin.
Did I mention my love/hate dilemma?
Oh so well said! Love this!!
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