Even in North Carolina, where it is currently seventy-five degrees the day before St. Patrick’s Day, the winters seem long to me. I will choose too-hot over too-cold any day, despite the argument that you can always put more on but there’s only so much…blah, blah, blah. Somehow, my body tends to adjust more quickly and more readily to the heat than the cold.
Plus, I like sunshine. Call me crazy.
Last October, almost as my liturgical goodbye, I found a 90% Off Summer Sale at Rite-Aid and cleared the shelves of bubbles.
Then, I proceeded to spend the next four months telling Eliott to “Find your shoes and socks and put them on. It is too cold to go barefoot.” And to Carter, “No, we are not doing bubbles.
Bubble weather has arrived.