With the temperature a balmy 45 degrees today, I was able to downgrade my bundling and comfortably leave the house in pants, a short-sleeved t-shirt, and hooded sweatshirt (go Bears...). Seriously, if I was in Vegas I would be complaining about how cold it is and wearing more than a sweatshirt, but here I've come to understand and live and breathe the theory of weather relativity. It's amazing how quickly I got used to the cold...save for a year and a half in Oregon, everywhere else I've lived has been downright balmy at least seven months of the year. And now...flip the seven months to chilly and you're there. And I love it. I have been in Detroit for three winters now, and deep into the February month of the first two years I caught myself wistfully imagining the feel of the Vegas sun baking my skin (my freckled, skin cancer-prone skin). This year I didn't even think of the heat until writing this, and even then without an ounce of wist!
I love the weather, though it really does make for miserable driving. I love the snow. And I love snowshoeing, a hobby the Husband and I picked up after he gave us snowshoes for Christmas. Even the ice, though treacherous, is incredibly beautiful. Stalactites of ice decorate the eaves of our roof, with those hanging low breaking off with the sound of shattering glass when I forgetfully swing open an outside door.
Nothing more to say tonight. Just happy to be happy about the weather. And just hoping, as much as the winter is beautiful and welcome in its time, that spring brings its own happy stuff...though I can tell you I've lived here long enough to know when I am being teased by Mother Nature and her 45 degrees...
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