I'm about crawling out of my skin. This winter is doing me in. I HAVE HAD IT.
I like winter. Really, I do! But I like it in December, January, and February. In March? Not so much.
It's not just me, being all snow-weary. This last storm, the kids didn't even go out to play. Not even once. The magic. is. gone. We're crammed into the house, day after day after day. We go through the motions of eating, reading, studying, fighting, hanging up the laundry on the drying racks, cleaning up, bringing in wood, and going to bed, and then wake up to do it all again the next day. The house feels stale and raggedy. I am sick of being in it.
The snow will melt!
The ground will turn to muddy-mush!
Green things might sprout!
We'll let the fire go out!
We'll throw open the windows!
The kids will run outside in shirtsleeves!
We'll wash sheets and hang them on the line!
I'll go for walks!
I can hardly wait. I'm holding on by the skin of my gritted teeth.
This same time, years previous: oatcakes, banana split ice cream, my OCD indulgence, and a warm (winter!) day.