As I lay here in this moldy old trawler hocking up chunks of green mucous, I think, it’s time to go home. Back to my nice cozy cottage with the woodstove, with my nice comfy bed, to the snow and ice. Back to work so I can afford to go to the doctor and get some antibiotics. Even the dog is coughing.
If I coulda afforded a real vacation, I woulda. But spiky old FL was the best I could manage, and even that was out of my budget. But I was desperate; mixing my tropical mind set with snow three times a week was messing up my equilibrium. An escape from the frigid weather in the north seemed like a great cure.
Reality bites. The first week here broke records for cold. The second week has been spent being miserably sick. I did get a new alternator when I broke down on the side of the road, something one always dreams of doing 2000 miles from home on vacation. At least during my absence, all my friends up north got a break from winter’s harsh grasp. Almost as soon as I left, temps in New England rose well above normal, bordering on spring-like, and it never snowed a flake the entire time I was away. True to form, the day I get back, it’s supposed to snow. There you have it. I really do cart along my very own black cloud. Any cloud exorcists out there?
Even teaching the dog to like the water was a bust. She refused to swim, stopping short as soon as her feet touched the water. She stood and watched while five other dogs and one guy charged into the water. Turns out she was smart, because all of them came racing right back out, the man yipping the loudest. That water was COLD!
Still, I’m glad I came, because it’s important to change one’s routine and location upon occasion, to get a fresh perspective, especially when the brain has become all muddled up into an icy sludge. For me, this winter break has reinforced the notion that there really is no place like home, home in New England, despite that white crap that falls out of the sky and the inability to wear sandals and bikinis outside in January. Well, I could, but I like my extremities not amputated for frostbite.
Warning, friends, I’m on my way back north, dragging that winter cloud with me.
If I coulda afforded a real vacation, I woulda. But spiky old FL was the best I could manage, and even that was out of my budget. But I was desperate; mixing my tropical mind set with snow three times a week was messing up my equilibrium. An escape from the frigid weather in the north seemed like a great cure.
Reality bites. The first week here broke records for cold. The second week has been spent being miserably sick. I did get a new alternator when I broke down on the side of the road, something one always dreams of doing 2000 miles from home on vacation. At least during my absence, all my friends up north got a break from winter’s harsh grasp. Almost as soon as I left, temps in New England rose well above normal, bordering on spring-like, and it never snowed a flake the entire time I was away. True to form, the day I get back, it’s supposed to snow. There you have it. I really do cart along my very own black cloud. Any cloud exorcists out there?
Even teaching the dog to like the water was a bust. She refused to swim, stopping short as soon as her feet touched the water. She stood and watched while five other dogs and one guy charged into the water. Turns out she was smart, because all of them came racing right back out, the man yipping the loudest. That water was COLD!
Still, I’m glad I came, because it’s important to change one’s routine and location upon occasion, to get a fresh perspective, especially when the brain has become all muddled up into an icy sludge. For me, this winter break has reinforced the notion that there really is no place like home, home in New England, despite that white crap that falls out of the sky and the inability to wear sandals and bikinis outside in January. Well, I could, but I like my extremities not amputated for frostbite.
Warning, friends, I’m on my way back north, dragging that winter cloud with me.
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