What happened to the girl who went out no matter what the weather was like? Who defied blizzards, -20 wind chill, whipping winds, searing heat? Who walked out the door on a night the day temp was -20 in a dress and four inch heels, unbuttoned coat, no hat (they muss up my ultra-fine hair), parents’ worried admonitions following me, ignored and scoffed at?
Okay, so that girl lived a long time ago, like the late 1970’s, but her character traits stayed with me for a very long time. Until maybe a couple of years ago. Suddenly, I found that I’d become what I’d always scorned: A Weather Wimp. Even with a reliable All Wheel Drive car in my garage, I think twice, thrice, before venturing out on a foul weather day. Even after due consideration of the conditions and a determination that it’s not that bad out, I might decide to stay home.
As long as I have some food, both for me and the animals, a couple of beers in the fridge, I will often decide it’s just not worth going anywhere. For years, I would be frustrated when more sensible friends would cancel a dinner or other fun because it was cold, or snowing, sleeting, there was a tornado warning. Maybe I was brave, maybe foolish, or perhaps I just plain didn’t want to sit at home. I was never going to let anybody, including Mother Nature, interfere with my evening plans.
There’s not a feeling that Mother N is penning me up inside the house, not anymore. I enjoy holing up in the house for a day, or two, or three. It’s cozy here, with the gas fireplace going, good music playing, the animals napping the afternoon away, me writing or researching or watching nature course by the office window. The world with its malls and theaters, its offices and restaurants, will keep until another day. I’m out of the weather and in for the night.