I hate cold weather. It makes me ache and my skin gets dry and itchy. And I get cranky. I get crankier each year. I just hate it. I want to go south with the birds. I'd much rather be too hot right now than too cold. Blah!
How is it I used to play in waist deep snow as a kid (knee deep to those that weren't height challenged)? I would make snowballs with my bare hands and eat icicles from our roof (I didn't know the cat would get stranded up there and use the roof as his toilet). I would pretend my steamy breath was smoke from my pretend
cigarette.
I loved sledding on the ski hill and coming home to take a warm bath. I loved climbing under the covers and warming my cold, crisp sheets by kicking my feet.
Not anymore. Poo on cold weather and poo on snow and sleet and poo on any outside degree under 70.
Here, now that I've poo'd on your good mood, look at Emily. She's cute and pretty and enjoying one of the last warm days of this year.