This season is now the visitor who’s overstayed her welcome. When winter usually arrives, I’m relieved and ready for the chill. More layers? No problem! We have special hats for this weather, some of which I’ve knitted. The snowstorms are an unexpected bonus that transport me to childhood. I used to live in the thick of blizzard country in Brockport, New York (near Rochester) and remember the storm of 1977 (I watched King Kong). Sam loves to take selfies in front of snowbanks–I have a whole album of his snow selfies. Now the cold has become a PITA. I fell in a nasty, cold puddle. My scarves are wearing scarves–every day for months. There’s nothing like the dry heat in New York apartments, where you wake up feeling as if you drank sawdust all night. Our apartment is already a dark cave, so three months of dim lighting and cold have eroded our spirits. This weekend, at last, there was sun, so Sam and I went for a walk. It didn’t matter where–turns out he needed spices for the lasagna he wanted to make–as long as we stayed outside. The more sun-drenching, the more we were smiling again.
Speaking of not getting a rose, any guesses on who’s taking home the prize that is Juan Pablo on tonight’s Bachelor?