It was hot earlier this month..... not Sacramento in the summer hot, but hot enough to make me believe the mythic weather of rainy damp Ireland was much like the constantly sunny California, a fabracation to sell movies. And then Monday of this week hit and I couldn't be happier.
It has been cold, finally. That kinda cold where the first few breaths outside hurt a little and your cheeks actually burn from the touch of it. The cold which makes walking feel invigorating and people hurry a little more to get from point a to point b. The type of cold where you need gloves in case you shatter you hands. I have loved it.
Now believe it or not kids there are two types of cold, much the same way there are two types of hot..... and strangely, they are the same for both, dry and damp and there is a similar effect... sort of. Dry cold is much easier deal with, put on a long sleaved shirt, a sweater, a coat and you're good to go. You can stay warmish.... a damp cold, like the one by any huge body of water, is a totally different. It pierces the skin, goes straight to the bone and if you aren't prepared for it before it happens, I am convinced it will steal your warmth and maybe your soul. This is the cold I like. This extreme cold. I don't know why. Perhaps I am mad? But I love it.
So as I lay in my room, watching the wind and the rain play outside, it is taking all of myself control to not go out and join them. Instead I am listening to them banter with each other as I, rather impatiently I might add, wait for their friend snow to show up.
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