The only thing this disgusting weather has done for me is fuel the fire of a southern desire inside my heart. For two days now, I’ve been holed up in my house, refusing to wear anything except sweat pants and an over sized sweatshirt with fluffy socks. I hate the snow but mostly, I hate the ice that lies underneath. I suppose if I lived in a part of the US that got more than two inches of ice covered with half an inch of snow, I might be able to tolerate the cold. Wait. That’s a lie. I despise the cold. I hate walking outside and being so cold that my bones literally ache. I long for the days of summer when I step outside and instantly start sweating. I dream of summer evenings on the front porch, iced tea with lemon slices in one hand and the other holding a good book that has nothing to do with work or school. Sigh.
Sometimes when I close my eyes, my mind begins to paint a picture of what I wish my life was like……a nice sized front yard with a weeping willow tree and a cute little flower garden that wraps all the way around my house into the back yard leading to my garden full of fresh veggies. I’d have some sort of goody baking away in the kitchen, the windows in my house would be open and the curtains would be blowing in the summer breeze as I sat curled up on my porch, waiting for my babies to wake from their nap. I’d probably be dreaming up what to make for supper, taking in to consideration that my TALL, DARK HEADED, ROUGH HANDED, cowboy had just mentioned he was craving my homemade lasagna. I’d be able to look to my left and to my right and see pasture that spread for acres and acres and my nostrils would be happy and full of my favorite smell…..cows. Is this really too much to ask for? Because I really want it to be more than a day dream. I don’t want to live in town. I want to hear my husband’s truck coming down the gravel drive instead of thousands of cars rolling down a highway that stretches for miles. I want to hear my babies laughing as they roll around in the yard with our dogs. I want a red front door and a porch with hanging ferns and wicker chairs. And I would not be opposed to this dream coming true in the south. Sigh.