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Our back yard on May 20th, 2019

Today is May 20. It’s evening, and getting darker outside. The rain that fell most of today has now turned to snow, and it’s cold. It’s “winter cold.”

I have written about weather before, specifically, my love of the cold, dark, rainy weather that seems to fit me — as if the outside and the inside (my soul, I suppose) fit together like two matching pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. But as much as I love it, it doesn’t love me back, with the change in the barometric pressure often triggering migraines for me.

The house feels cold. I stop writing from time to time so I can rub my hands together to warm them up. I suppose I can get up and raise the temperature in the room, but I don’t really want to do that. I want to take one of the blankets that is currently folded on the back of the chair I’m sitting on, wrap it around myself and go to sleep. But first things first, I need to finish this blog:

I see myself in the reflection of the glass door, but beyond the door I see our patio umbrella, already open for the warm seasons, getting covered with snow. Last week we had two days in a row when the temperature reached 80 degrees. Today, well, I just warmed up my hands on the back of my neck a little bit again. The snow on the deck, where the light from my lamp is reaching it, is glittering like crushed diamonds. That means that it’s damn cold. I caught one of our dogs, Bella, wanting to go outside, but backing up through the doggie door. Bella is originally from Oklahoma — that’s one of the two thing that people at the pound knew about her — the second was her age — she was about two years last year, when we adopted her. She hates this weather, hates the rain, hates the cold. Bella is NOT my spirit animal. I had to cajole her to “go pee pee, go pee pee Bells,” several times before she decided that getting me to shut up would be worth it for her to brave the elements.

Tomorrow we have family coming to visit us. Jeff’s sister, Amy, is flying in from Salem, Oregon, and Jeff’s brother, Glenn, and mom, Brenda, are flying in from St. Louis, Missouri. The house is still fairly messy, but the bathrooms and the kitchen are going to be clean, and that is the most important thing. I’m a bit worried about the dogs’ reaction to newcomers, but they usually bark and bark, then calm down. And if they come in with Jeff, and if everyone has goldfish crackers as a peace offering, things shouldn’t get out of hand.

I’ve known Jeff’s family for almost 40 years, and I love them. They’re not going to care if the house is messy. They’re not visiting for the house. Being with Amy and Glenn is being with friends I’ve known for most of my life. The fact is, they’re both the kinds of people I would want to talk to at a party where I was meeting new people, and that they’re family makes it even sweeter.

I am going to go to bed now, right after I swallow an Excedrin Migraine, just as a precautionary measure, and put an extra blanket on the bed. Then I am going to snuggle down and go to sleep.

Good night everyone.

Written by

Writer and storyteller, immigrant, wife, mom, knitter, collector of jokes, lover of cheap, sweet wine.

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