It will come as no surprise to anyone who has spent a lick of time with me that I hate winter. I wish there were a word stronger than hate--not like a synonym, like "despise", but something I could say that would, verbally, set off smoke bombs nearby you and unleash that black shadow demon from the newest Hobbit around you so you could just really get what I'm saying when I say that I hate winter.
So, anyway, my winter plans-at this point-include getting the "h" out of winter. I'm leaving. A short weekend to North Carolina, where some Cafe Capistrano awaits me, and then an entire month in California. It was a wrench to decide this--I hate to single-parent for so long--but it was the lesser of the two evils. In Boston, after it snows, I am pretty effectively marooned inside, as my primary form of transportation (stroller/feet) is unusable in a place where they don't feel it necessary to clear sidewalks.
And I couldn't, I just simply couldn't look forward to an uninterrupted New England winter. This winter has been hard. Already, really, really hard. Which is tough, as it's just begun.
A brief example: on Thursday, I woke up early and got dressed while James-kindly-cleared snow off the car. I cleared some more snow before I left, because it was coming down fairly steadily, and then drove to the gym where I intended to take a pilates class and then swim. However, after making it to the building, I couldn't get into the parking lot because my car couldn't make it up the steep, ice-covered incline to the lot. I tried THREE times, then gave up and drove to a McDonalds for breakfast. Their drive-thru was exceedingly easy to access. Then I came home and booked a month long trip to Southern California.
Winter and me, there's just no getting around it--it's not a fit. I try, but old man winter hates me, and, real frankly, I hate him, too.
So, here's to another season of freaking getting through it. It's not real positive, but it is fact.