Call me desperate. Looking for a positive. This weather is enough to push anyone over the edge. But, as per usual, it is all in perception. Yesterday I joined some banter on Facebook. I know. I know better. My niece had posted about having another day off from her work at school due to the cold. My son commented on that suggesting that we need to be safe. Not put our lives at risk. I think his tongue was firmly planted in his cheek because he also had the day off. I scoffed at that. Made the comment that just living in this province was putting one’s life at risk. Another niece, who works in Bethlehem, questioned my comment because we, in this province, have no clue about putting our lives at risk compared to so many other places in the world. She knows all too well.
As I looked out the window this morning, questioning my existence, I noticed the sun reflecting off the houses across the street. I was rudely brought back to reality by the sound of a horn. A car horn. Actually, make that a bus horn. I knew, without looking, that it was 7:45. Happens every day. For some reason the kids living next door get the benefit of a horn if they are not at the road when the bus shows up. Wow. How things have changed. I never got that chance. If we were not at the road, ready to go, there was hell to pay. Not only that. We were told that we had to smile AND say good morning to the driver. If we missed the bus?? Don’t want to talk about it.
What else can I say? Here we are at the beginning/middle of January. Stuck in an Artic Vortex. What is that? I have no idea. But it is cold. Darn cold. Trying to figure out what is actually important for anybody at this time of year. Not sure anybody cares. All looking forward to Friday. Forecasted high of -3. Is that really all we have to look forward too? Probably, but I hope not.
As I was saying. When I saw the sun come up this morning, reflecting off the houses on our street, I was reminded of spring. I was reminded of those early mornings, dragging my butt out of bed, and envisioning the first tee box. Envisioning a round of golf like never before. I sense my body feeling prepared. My muscles rippling, just waiting to get out there. I know I can do this. Visions of making millions on the PGA tour. Wait a minute. I am too old for that. In yesteryears I sometimes thought that the senior tour might work. Okay. I didn’t really think that. It was more of a fantasy.
However. It is obvious that the angle of the sun’s rays is changing. The days are getting longer. There is hope. I often say that there are certain benchmarks that help me make it through winter. First there is December 21. The first day of winter. The day that we have the least amount of sunlight. If, in fact, the sun is shining. After that I need to make it to the end of January. That is when the normal highs hit their lowest temperature. I get it. Suggesting anything “normal” about this weather is anything but normal. Let’s just say that under usual circumstances temperatures should begin a return to something almost bearable.
Here I am ranting again. I just mentioned to someone the other day that we need to become more positive. In our refection of the past there are good things that happened. We must not allow ourselves to become lost in the sea of regrets, resentment or negativity. There are always pleasant memories we can focus on. And as this winter drags on we know that spring awaits. It won’t be long before we understand, again, why we live where we live. In the meantime there are no mosquitos. Make it a good one.