I realize most of you look forward to the cooler temperatures and that is because you guys fall into the normal people category. I suppose it doesn’t surprise you one bit that I, on the other hand, run for the blankets when the thermometer dips below 70 degrees. To say I don’t enjoy cold weather is like saying I don’t enjoy being dragged across a bed of nails on my knees while wearing shorts.
Until I moved to San Saba five years ago, I had no idea Texas even had any really cold weather. I judged all of Texas by what happened on the coast and there you had warm, slightly warm and then warmish cool. I will admit to seeing an ice storm a few times and snow maybe three times since my birth. I did learn never to trust my brother thanks to snow. My oldest brother told me to make a snow cone and put honey on it and eat it. I did exactly what he told me and got so sick. What on earth was my six year old mind thinking? We lived less than a mile from all those Texas City chemical plants! I cannot imagine what I ingested that morning. Oh well, it was probably his plan all along, he had four sisters and I am sure I was everyone’s first choice to be annihilated.
I have taken more than my fair share of teasing around town for dressing like an Eskimo. There have been comments about my long wool coat, hats, gloves and full length boots but what no one knows is I have contemplated wearing my blanket to shop! The comment was made once that if I was not so puny or would pack on a few pounds then perhaps I would not feel the cold quite so much but I can say from experience that does not work. When I moved to San Saba I weighed 225 and trust me, I had as much insulation as a walrus but when it got cold, my teeth chattered and I felt as miserable as I do now.
The difficult part of all this is living with someone who loves the cold. Harold thinks living in a refrigerator is conducive to staying healthy. He thinks when you talk you should be able to trace your words in the air by actually seeing them in their vapor form. When we are sitting on the couch watching television and I ask if we can turn on the heat, he asks why? I show him the icicles on my nose, he says, "Oh those? That is why they make Puffs! I think it feels comfortable in here." When I turn blue he asks if I feel depressed? I don’t mean to complain, I really don’t but this man would sweat in the middle of a snow storm!
I do have one being on my side in this house and that is Patches. Dachshunds are small, low slung dogs and very susceptible to cold. Being the master manipulator he is, when I wear a sweatshirt, sweater or coat, Patches will jump in my lap and maneuver his way into and under for warmth. Many has been the time I have answered the door or phone carrying a dachshund bundle under my shirt like I am due any second. If I dare deny him access, he paws at my shirt like he can dig his way through and gives me looks as if to say…"Please, I am so cold and you know how awful it feels to be cold. If we share we will be so much warmer. Please, please let me in!"
So Fall is upon us whether I like it or not. I have already taken out and even worn some of my fleece jackets and leggings. For those of you I have seen lately that thought I had died or moved away, know my hermit status will only increase with fall/winter hibernation. I will venture out on occasion, look out my window often but as always, the most fertile source of inspiration will be this silly old mind of mine. The seasons change, the world changes but one thing that does not…love you all with all my heart.