My Feckless Forefathers

Really.

I am not joking here.

I was not meant to live in a place where Winter comes consistently every 9 months to torment and taunt me. Winter makes me miserable. It's hideous. There is nothing redeeming about biting wind and freezing rain and snow that turns to filthy gray slush in hours. A beautiful, silent, snowfall is not enough to make up for the rest of the disaster that is Winter.

When my ancestors washed ashore on the East Coast and started across the Great Interior, I don't understand why they only made it to Indiana and stopped. I'm actually pretty disappointed with them. They weren't particularly ambitious. They came from Ireland and Sweden, Germany and England, presumably on a filthy, overcrowded ship where even the rats had scurvy . They could have gone anywhere! The US was a vast expanse of land, offering endless possibilities! But they traveled for, what, 2 weeks? And stopped in Indiana. Not even Southern Indiana, where the tulips bloom earlier and the lush rolling hills outclass the farmland by a mile.

I got a little spoiled in San Diego. I saw what life with perfect weather could do to my psyche and I liked it. And I want more. In San Diego, I woke up happy every day. I didn't even own a winter coat until we moved to Tokyo. In San Diego, you can sit in the hot tub on Christmas Day. In San Diego, you can enjoy Balboa Park in January. In San Diego, you can eat dinner on a patio if the heat lamps are burning and garden year-round.

But here. It is cold. The forecast for today was almost 50 with sunshine. So I wore my jean jacket with a long sleeve T and sweatshirt under it.

And froze my ass off.

They apparently forgot to mention the wind chill in that downright balmy prediction for today.

So now I'm cranky.