As I write this, it is about 20 degrees with a wind chill of 8 outside. This is NUTS! Yeah, I know it's January and not June. But I just really don't enjoy frigid temperatures. Inside of me beats the heart of a beach bum. Give me a balmy breeze off the ocean and sand between my toes. Shoot, add an umbrella drink and it's nirvana for sure!
I'm not a *complete* party-pooper when it comes to certain aspects of winter, though. For example, two days ago we had a very pretty snowfall with a lot of flakes the size of 50 cent pieces. It just coated the trees, grass and shrubs like a mantle and it was postcard perfect. I can appreciate the beauty in that--even more if I'm inside my home, dry and warm and sipping hot chocolate!
By and large, though, a day this cold makes me think of Jimmy Buffett's music. Lines like "I gotta fly to St. Somewhere" and "I gotta go where it's WARM!" come to mind.
I recently found out that one of my "Florida cousins" wants to spend her 50th birthday celebrating at a beach house. Now, there's woman after my own heart. Her birthday is on March 4 and I very much plan to be there with bells on. I can hardly wait!
Meanwhile, I'd best get into the rain locker and then wrap myself in nice, warm layers to brave these awful temps outside. I've got a manicure and pedicure on my agenda today--woo hoo!
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