The sun is shining here today. I went out on the back porch and broke away some ice without a coat on, even though it's only about thirty degrees. I could almost feel the warmth of the sun for a moment.
I miss that. I've been ill since November. And cold. Bone cold. I almost miss the hot flashes of menopause this winter. At least then I still could feel my toes most days when I still had hot flashes.
I am even more tired of complaining about the cold and snow than I am looking at it and walking in it and putting my boots, coat, gloves, hat and scarf on just to take Rupert out to pee, a chore that takes fifteen minutes now.
My body is rebelling more than usual this winter. But today, as the sun shines down, it suddenly remembers summer and counts the days -- 110 -- until we can open up the camper. Maybe my toes will have thawed out by then.