It’s mostly good to be home, but it is still cold!
We just got back to Arkansas from the beautiful and overcrowded Sarasota, Florida. Ah, the six months in paradise is over and now it’s back to our ole cluttered house here.
For one thing it’s cold. The wind has been blowing for the three days we’ve been here. We come home in spring. And it should be nice here now. Our old house doesn’t know it is supposed to be warm apparently, and outside, I require a coat.
Weather is screwed up all over the country. Yes, I know it’s worldwide and I am convinced it is climate change and it is not good.
But I’m a selfish old woman and I want the weather around me to behave itself. And I travel 1000 miles every autumn to stay in the warmth, so it could consider that. It’s in the 60s today and that is not warm enough, and when it does get warm enough — 75 to 85 for me — it will soon turn blazing hot. But I so much prefer hot to cold weather.
In attempt to chase the weather I like, we have two homes. A house here in Arkansas and a dinky little manufactured home in Florida. Every time we are at one, sooner or later I start wishing we were at the other. I think it could be said (and is, frequently, by my darling husband) that I’m never satisfied. But I am. If the weather is perfect and everything is going my way.
This being just the beginning of our six months in Arkansas, I’m happy with where I am. If it warms up I’ll be even happier. I may get used to my nomadic life eventually, or I may decide someday to stay in just one place. The trips are hard on us. We’re 71 and 75, after all.
And I do have to say that trading my writing corner for a folding table in a tiny spare bedroom in Florida is not as conducive to writing as this little corner of mine by a big window.
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