See the picture above, it was taken in our backyard. Very cool, I know, we live right next to National Forest. We can right out from our house onto miles of wilderness. But that's not the point. This picture was taken in December, our backyard still looks like that.
I hate this time of year. I haven't felt my nose for about three months, or the tips of my fingers, or my toes. And we still have two more months to go. Yesterday we got another two inches of snow, as I was shoveling I attacked a patch of packed snow and ice, hacking away at it. Yes, I was taking my frustration out, but why shouldn't I on the very thing that has socked me into our home for so many months? Today as I was shoveling another two inches I was tempted to shake my fist at the falling flakes and yell,
"Turn into rain already!" I doubt it would listen.
I don't even know what to cook right now, the weather says turnips and potatoes, the calendar says strawberries and asparagus. I say I don't care, I'm just cold.
Catalogues arrive with glorious spreads of sandals and shorts, I look down at my wool socks and think, 'not yet, not yet.' I can't even fathom shorts, but I day dream about it, probably more than I should. This is the time of year when I start refusing to wear my coat. I don't care if it's still in the thirties, I am tired of being strangled by my clothes. So I sit in the car and shiver until the heater kicks in.
I also lose the will to fight it, instead of suiting up for the weather I give in and curl into a ball most Saturdays. This winter we have hibernated more than most, largely because we have a toddler and outdoor activities in below freezing weather are well nigh impossible with someone who is barely walking. I don't think I have ever spent this much time inside, but what's a girl to do? We haven't gone snowshoeing or done any form of skiing.
I did make strawberry pie today, because here's to hoping that spring will come early this year...