Thursday, December 10, 2009
Your vacillating vagabonds get pretty serious about closing out the old year and bringing in the new. For as long as I can remember we have always spent part of December canvassing our checklists from the year before. The things we had hoped to accomplish vs reality and zeal.
I am a shameless attitudinizer. I love SoCal. The beach and sun will always be burned into my bones, and yet, I love foul weather. Ann and I long for stormy wet days. The draw to Wales is just that...finding a place where a fire is welcome and sweaters are needed.
One of our favorite destinations throughout our marriage has been the High Sierras. Whenever we headed north from San Diego, our first stop was always at highway 395 and four corners (Boron). Stepping out of our truck the wind and chill would cut right through us. I don't think I have ever been on that speck of the map without high winds, blowing dust and the sense of adventure that would leave our civilized SoCal-ness gasping for breath and holding on for dear life. There is something about nasty weather that engages the senses.
So while I engage in a little pecksniffery from time to time...I love dirty weather. Maybe its because I am not often exposed to it and love the sense of jeopardy it brings to my day. I have bemoaned for years the shirt-sleeved holidays...its doesn't seem natural to wear shorts and T's during Thanksgiving and Christmas. Does it?
Today the skies are blue, the air is cold and there are only a few leaves left on my favorite tree. The forecast tells us that the rain and winds will return tomorrow and life will be good. Thanks for letting me gripe from my sunny porch. Yes, as I admitted above...I am a hypocrite, but a happy one nonetheless.