Yes. This Is A Post About the Weather.... Well F*^^% You Too!

A couple of weeks ago, here in Michigan we enjoyed a spate of balmy weather topping out into the 80s. Spring's early arrival triggered the annual en masse exposure of flesh that only a Midwestern campus town can know, and in my own neighborhood small children once more tore around the block on their bikes while their parents gently chatted over fences. People came together to revel in warm and open spaces and to admire one another's bulb gardens.

Except me. I was freaked out. Freaked out by this sudden onset of warmth and clamminess. The lack of appropriate clothes. The realization that my legs still wore their customary winter shag and my feet in serious need of a pedicure (or at least some de-gnarling). And then there is that pressure to Be Outside Enjoying It While You Can. And to Make Sure the Children Get Plenty of Fresh Air.

I am not an Outdoorsy Person. I think you could safely describe me as an Indoorsy Person. When August fades into Fall and that first cold snap hits the air, I love the anticipation of hunkering down and become positively giddy as I sit on the couch and watch my Husband lug in several tons of logs for the fire. I even like it when it gets dark earlier, and we are safely coccooned in our living room enjoying that blaze while I watch endless hours of television and blog and stuff my face knit and do jigsaw puzzles with my son. I'm English. We dig gloomy weather.

But Holy Fuck. I can't take any more of this. I'm sorry already, ok? Days and days of snow and wind and wrestling my boys into padded garments. The daffodils are fucked and my son is asking if this means it's Christmas soon...