When I was a child in Southern California, it was not so cold or so wintery.
When we lived in North Carolina, we wore coats but it didn't snow, it was not so cold.
Then one day, I found myself living in New York City.
I arrived in August. From California.
I was used to warm dry weather, the humid August heat of a city Summer was new.
But I managed well enough, with trips to the mountains and visits to the beach.
But then as the years went by, married, with children, living in houses , Summer took on a new meaning.
Vacations, sleeping late, trying to keep 2 children entertained and occupied, keeping them from killing each other ..
January meant freezing cold, snow, vacations to Islands where for 2 weeks, we would get sunburned, lay on a beach, eat food and fruit that was sometimes a bit different, and go home with a tan while most of those around us were that winter grey white that we end up with by February.
Here I am , all these years later .. the end of January.
The hottest Summer I can remember yet .
Sounds odd, no ?
After 6 years, it sounds odd to me still.
I would never get used to this.
January and February are not meant to be hot and humid.
Christmas is not meant to be beach weather .. January and February are not supposed to have the air conditioners running non-stop.
I heard the air conditioner give a little pause, the motor just made a little hiccup , my heart sank, I had this terrible dread, this awful doomed feeling ... that I would have to sleep with no air conditioning until we leave here.
So far, it was only a hiccupp.
It is still working.
This is where I am .. mentally.. I am suffering from Fear of loss of air conditioning.
I already have Fear of new freckles and Fear of my hair crumbling off in a sun bleached pile of white fluff and Fear of wrinkles multiplying at a faster rate than doctors guessed possible and by this coming October, I will look 80 years old, instead of .. well ... less.
So I must get through about a month or more of Summer in February and wait for things to begin and then start the packing process and find a hotel in NY and figure out what to pack and what I can carry on and which coat to bring and all that travel from one part of the World to another means.
I cannot wait !!
This is what it means to live at the Bottom of the World.
Just so you know.
|See ? the BOTTOM of the World .. there I am .|
|Pretty, isn't it . The penguins like it.|