there once was a whole person who liked snow

people understand - sympathize, even - if you're from a warm climate, move to a cold one, and miss the warm one. they understand if you're from the mountains and now you're in the plains. they even understand if you're from new york city and now you're not. "you can take the girl out of new york," they empathize, "but you can't take the new york out of the girl." they're willing  - eager, sometimes - to talk about it with you. to listen, to validate, to care. and not just to care - but to almost make you a saint. "you poor thing! i don't know how on earth you do it! i know i couldn't! you deserve a medal, girl."


try that with snow.


for once, it would be nice to be understood. to not be looked at like you're a freak.  to not be met with, "you don't really mean, that. do you??????" to not be told there must be something wrong with you.

it's like being in a minority that everyone thinks you sorta deserve to be in. "if you're gonna be this crazy, you deserve whatever ostracism you get."


but, weather and climate are really very fundamental parts of who each of us, at the core, really is. don't believe it? when was the last time you - or anyone you know - didn't high five the person who said he wishes he were at the beach? you not only high five it, you pine for it. you wish you were there. if not going so far as wishing that he weren't there, you at least wish you were, too. you can talk for hours about it. days. years. you plan your retirement around it. and yet........it isn't a key part of who you are? 

but let someone start talking about cold and snow and you scoff. you dismiss - (that's really the worst part). you roll your eyes. you can't believe it. you don't even try to believe it. you assume that the person who likes cold and snow is either a.) crazy, b.) a liar,  or..... 



c.) 3/5 of a person.


 

the woman who loved every kind of weather or, how to fix everything

last night i had dinner with an old woman who loves every kind of weather. hot and humid? loves it. freezing cold and snowing? loves. mild and rainy? loves. cool and sunny? loves. below zero? fine. in the teens? fine. 50s? fine. 90s? fine. over a hundred? fine. "have you ever met a weather you don't like," i asked. "no," she said.



lots of people, all of them seemingly on facebook, seem to know the secret to a good life - and most of them can sum it up in a catchy meme. it might be - often is - religious in nature, it might be - often is - sarcastic in nature, or it might be - always is - thought-provoking in nature. but no one has ever summed it up like the old woman who loves every kind of weather.

i have never met a person who even likes every kind of weather, much less loves it. i have met people who like every kind of season, but that's different. to embrace humidity right along with embracing scraping your windshield in january is not just unusual, it is unheard of. 

and that's why the world is a mess. because loving weather, no matter what kind it is, is unheard of.




i asked this lady if she is flexible about everything. she thought about it for a second, shrugged her shoulders and said, "sure. why not?" are you flexible about what you eat, i asked.

"sure. why not?"

the clothes you wear?

"sure."

where you live?

"yeah."

what you do in your free time?

"of course."

you flexible about politics?

"people are politics. so, yeah. gotta be flexible about people."

religion?

"you practice yours, i'll practice mine."

what about taxes?

"sure. tell me what to pay and i'll pay it."




is there anything you're not flexible about, i asked.

"one thing," she said.

what, i said.



"being flexible."





 

pumpkins as decoration. and yes, the dreaded S word - starbucks

i just drove by the entrance to an upscale subdivision and its gates and pillars were seasonally (and tastefully) decorated with pumpkins. and i thought...........wait a minute.


in many regions across the country, front yards and front porches are sporting mums and pumpkins and indian corn and cornstalks. as if we're rural people. as if we're farmers. as if we're any more connected to the fields where those products came from than the man in the moon. if we were really tuned into the earth, we wouldn't be sitting in upscale cafes drinking "pumpkin" (yeah, right....nothin' pumpkin about it) spiced lattes. we'd be on the front porch, cuz it's hot in those fields. chuggin' lemonade. with water that came from the well.

i think it is disingenuous to have it both ways - pumpkins in a subdivision and lattes at starbucks. make a choice. quit fooling yourself with romantic notions. it's phony. it's like the set for a movie or something. cozy and cute.

and phony.



the plain red cup, however, is not phony. starbucks is not a Christian company. they make no bones about that. nor should they. they are what they are.



are you?









 

weatherism. and soup.

since it's the national pastime to be offended, i'm offended. i'm offended by people who assume i like sunny, warm weather. OF.FEND.ED.


people can. not. be. lieve. it. when they learn i like winter. i like cold, i like snow, i like ice. i like driving in it. i like being stranded in it. i. like. it.

no, you don't, they say. you don't like it. you might think you like it, but you don't really like it.

i do, i say. i like it.

well, they say, you wouldn't like it if you lived in minnesota.

i would.

you would not, could not in alaska.

i would. could! on a boat! with a goat!

in a box! with a fox!



i like it.



besides. soup in hot weather is no fun.


neither are green eggs and ham.

bruno mars hates hot weather, too.

it's no secret that i am not a fan of hot/humid weather. understatement of the year.

however, i know that people don't want to hear me going on and on about how i don't like hot/humid weather. and by don't like it i mean, loathe it.

they don't want to hear it. i get that. just like i don't want to hear you griping about my beloved snow and cold. you don't wanna hear it, i don't wanna hear it. we're even.

and so, before i moved down here, i promised rudy that i would never complain about the heat/humidity. i didn't say i would never comment on it.....because i will.....but i won't gripe. there's a difference between commenting and griping: the difference is, "wow, it sure is hot today" vs. "for the love of $%*@!##$*&! this is the worst flippin' weather in the history of the world and i, for one, am gonna DIE. but not before i kill somebody first."

that's griping.

i promised rudy i wouldn't do that.

and, i won't. in spite of the fact that since moving down here, everyone is scaring me half to pieces about the heat and humidity that's to come. this is what all of them are telling me:

oh, girl, just. wait.

oh, dude, you don't know the half of it. just. wait.

oh, you poor thing! you're just gonna die! DIE! just. wait.

oh, nancy.......nancy, nancy, NANCY......just. wait.


(speaking of nancy, the latest person to warn me that death by heat/humidity is imminent was my dear old school (literally) friend, nancy (flood) staley, who now lives in north carolina - and so she knows what she's talking about -  and who only this morning warned me to "just wait until august...")



all of these warnings have left me terrified. standing here in may, on the cusp of june (and july and august after that), i am shaking like a leaf.  scared of the weather and scared of the word "just." i never wanna hear the word "just" the rest of my life.



but.


i. promised.

and. i. will. keep. my. promise.

i. will. not. complain.

i. won't.




don't believe me?


just watch.

let it frickin snow/not snow

politics and religion? come on. pieces of cake compared to discussing snow.


no surprise, but my facebook and twitter pages today are full of people having a full-on, vitriolic snowball fight. some of those snowballs sound as though they have rocks buried inside. rocks and maybe worse.

of all the things that separate us, i think weather is the salient one. it beats gender, beats income, beats education, beats do you have ham or turkey on Christmas.

some may like it hot and some may like it cold but nobody wants the other one to have what they like. weather beats every Christian principle there is, every time.



i did something after work that i hope will help bridge the divide. i stopped at the store and bought some potato salad from the deli. then i picked up some ground beef, some hamburger buns, and a quart of ice cream. schlepped the whole thing over to my neighbor who loves ohio in july and who i knew would be in a bag - and he was (is) - over today's snowfall. i handed him the food and said, here, have a summer picnic indoors. 


the look on his face when i handed him the stuff restored my belief in humanity's ability to get along.

first snow

first,

snow.



how tiny things are

big. how tiny things fall,

and then,

build up.


like words.

like smirks.

like the lonely boy on the play

ground

who gives away his lunch one day

and then,

the next.


like small raises in your salary.

like one ant and then,

one hundred.


like sitting in small pieces of

the dark,

waiting for snow

to

fall.


and then,

it

does.

seasons change and so do i

when i came out of work today

it was

hot.

like someone turned the furnace on,

in

an

attic.



while wearing a sweater.




soon enough, the snow

will fly.

i will come out of work with my

mouth open wide

like charlie brown

at Christmas



i will try to remember sweater attic heat

but won't.

i will try to remember lemonade,

but won't.



i will try to imagine heaven.



and will.

autumn falling

spring is not when the leaves fall but it's when people are supposed to fall in love. everything's supposed to be newer and fresher and better in the spring.

it's not.


if you don't live in a part of the country where the leaves turn colors, i will move you to the top of my prayer list.

if you don't know what it's like to smell hickory fire on a cold and cloudy wednesday afternoon, move.



the beach smells like salt. it smells like fish.

ohio smells like a pie cooling in the window.

the southern states are good for sweat.

ohio is good for pot roast on the stove.

sun makes you hot.

country cabins in the middle of red gold and orange make you

warm.


falling in love in the spring is easy.

doing it in the fall is



easier.

first full day of spring and my dog gets a bone

first full day of spring and my dog gets

a bone.


beef marrow,

from the thigh,

REAL THING.


i bought it in the winter,

(froze it)

when every. one. was. bitch. in.

bout. every. flake. that.

fell.


but, no one's bitch. in.

now.


not even the rabbit

or the robin

or the little kid down the street who says,

hey, 

that looks good,

can i have some and my dog says,


hell.........


no.

why it's better when olives still have the pit in

olives without the pits in 'em make me happy. but.......they shouldn't.


olives with the pits still in 'em force us - or should force us (i don't know about some of you gluttons) - to slow down. olives with the pits in 'em mean you can take more time to taste the olive! who knew?!

that's why God put thorns on rose bushes - to slow your sorry ass down.

it's also why God made winter. it takes time to count the snowflakes. hell, it takes time just to walk in the winter!



it might sound strange, but i am going to spend this winter storm warning day eating olives.

i need to spend my whole life eating them.


so do you.

pippi's winter

they've done something with

my grass.

i don't mind.........i'm 

flexible. 

i love

everything.


i love people 

(yes, all of them)

and places and people and places and

things.

i love food. i love the mere thought 

of food. my nose can - and does - 

twitch 

when i'm dreaming of

it.


they've done something with

my grass.


i don't mind. 

i go in the snow,

track a little back 

in

like a friend,


as we sleep 


by the fire.

live your life like it's the first day of football season and the game starts in 2 hours.

the only bad thing about football season is football.

i don't like football (i don't like any sports) although i have been known to get fairly fired up about it at crucial moments. like that one fiesta bowl a few years back (it was the fiesta bowl, wasn't it?) and the game went past midnight and down to the wire. i like football then.

but mostly, i don't like football.

what i do like, however, is the first day of football season - because damned near everybody is in an extremely good mood.

damned near everybody is not in an extremely good mood any other time of year or even for very long at this time of year. you get about 2 minutes into the first quarter and half the folks are pissed. which has always perplexed me. i mean, what the hell did you think was gonna happen? that both sides would play perfectly?

i don't understand being enthusiastic about something that makes you blow a gasket. 

what i think would be swell would be if everyone approached all the other days of their life the same way they approach the first day of football season, before the game starts. just think about it........everyone would be smiling, everyone would be optimistic, everyone would be excited, nobody would mind when you tell them you forgot to pick up the chips so would they please run over to the store real quick and get some.

you'd never have to worry about what to wear because your team has already dictated that to you.

you can yell all you want and turn up the t.v. real loud and no one has to know it's because you're losing your hearing.

and you can drink more beer than usual. well, hopefully more than usual.

you can also slip out at half-time and go buy a pumpkin. while you're there, you can have some hot mulled cider and pull your sweatshirt a little tighter around you. if you're not in a big hurry to get back for the third quarter (and you're not), you can kick through the leaves and inhale the smell of hickory burning somewhere off in the distance.

and, as you leave the pumpkin farm, if you don't want to go back home to the game and the crowd and the noise and the swearing and the acting like it's any other day of the year except the first day of football season,

you don't have to.

it's that time of year

a lot of things happen this time of year - most of 'em good.


you've  got your election out of the way which, this year, ok, talk about your exception to the good rule. but other than that, this time of year is nice.

it's nice because the weather isn't hot. that's probably the biggest reason of all that this time of year is nice. it's also nice because the birth of the Saviour is right around the corner, but - truth be told? the weather not being hot is just about as good as the birth of  Christ. i mean, sorry, but it's true.

it's also nice because everything is in the expectant mode and nothing is in the it's-all-over-so-now-back-to-the-grind mode. the holidays are coming - they're close - but they aren't quite here yet. which means, you have the luxury of thinking how nice and stress-free and non-breaking-of-the-bank they're gonna be this year. everything is still exciting. everything is still fun. 

in other words, you're in denial. which is nice.
.
this time of year, the mashed potatoes aren't lumpy yet. the turkey's still moist.

the lights aren't all tangled up. in your mind's eye, you see them shining perfectly.  none of them are burned out.

black friday hasn't hit yet, so you're still asleep at 2 in the morning.

ohio state hasn't played michigan yet, so you're still sober at 2 in the morning.

summer smells like sweat. fall smells like cloves.

they talk about summer romance but summer doesn't have any romance. summer has sweat.

summer has mosquitoes. and mosquito bites. it has poison ivy.

summer has summer camp, which has mosquitoes. and mosquito bites.  and poison ivy.

it has sunburn. it has cicadias. summer has not being able to get the kids to sleep cuz it's so dang light out.

summer has vacation, which sounds good on the surface, but summer vacation is either boring (mom, there's nothing to do!) or you get home from summer vacation and you need a vacation to recupe from vacation.

summer has sweat.

fall, on the other hand, has cloves.

it has hickory and wood smoke and caramel lattes. (it has caramel everything, if you're creative enough.)

it has pie in the oven and soup on the stove.

it has what, if friendship and love had a scent, what that scent would smell like.

it has cloves.