Take that you stupid groundhog.
17.01.2014 - 20.01.2014
I thought the whole point of living in the south was to make fun of northerners in the winter.
We southerners are not equipped to deal with extreme cold and we panic at the very idea of snow. Actual snow is not necessary. All we need to see is a forecast predicting flurries or temperatures below 40 degrees and we declare a State of Emergency. We run to the nearest grocery store and buy it out of bread, milk, and eggs. We clean the hardware stores out of salt and we prepare to burn our furniture.
It was January and it was cold. It wasn’t just cold outside. It was cold inside. I live in a historic home. By “historic,” I mean “drafty and probably insulated with newspapers.”
My old Victorian house found it impossible to cope with the single digit temperatures and my thermostat showed me that, despite the fact that it was set on 71, it was, in fact, only 55 degrees in my house.
To add insult to injury, my most recent utility bill had been for $658….to keep my house at that balmy 55 degrees. There was ice on my windows. ON THE INSIDE.
My Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) was kicking into high gear.
I needed to go to the Bahamas.
We threw the dogs in the plane, shook the snow off our boots, and headed south for a long weekend.
So, for all of you who are suffering through you own 9 months of winter, here is proof that warm places still exist. That the sun is still somewhere in the sky. That the world has not, in fact, been swallowed up by cold and snow, thrusting the universe into some eternal night like some end-of-the-world Bruce Willis movie.
So, here is my parting message to Old Man Winter. We've had enough. You can move along now, and take that stupid groundhog with you.