I *used* to love Winter unconditionally... Sweaters! Christmas! Snow days! I mean, really what wasn't loveable? Then I started driving and owning a house that involved a sidewalk and being told that "it snowed" wasn't a good enough excuse to stay home from work, and now I kind of love it a little less. I also used to hate Summer... well, okay I still hate Summer. I can't function in 100+ degree weather, it's just not for me.
But having said that, I'm finding as I get older that I tolerate the cold less as well, and so that makes me wonder...
Am I destined for the desert? I know lots of old folks who have never left the colder climates, but is that just because they can't afford to retire to Tucson or Boca Raton? Do *you* find yourself longing for dryer, warmer locales? Am I bound to join the ranks of the people who turn on their heat and put on a warm coat when the weather hits 55 degrees?**
Luckily, I live in the Front Range in Colorado, where the sun works harder... it can snow a foot here, and it'll be gone (except in the mountains) by the next morning (usually). It generally stays up in the high country, and that is fine by me. I'll probably stay put... but still.
Sometimes, though, I'm reminded that I really do love snow, especially when it snows just how I like it... decoratively. We woke up this morning to a perfect coating on all the trees and grass...it's gone now.
**Side note: In describing herself this way, my mother referred to herself as a desert dwelling pussy. After choking on my coffee, I declared that I would put that on a sampler, a-la Subversive Cross Stitch. It's now in her office.