Perfect Weather

How often do we get perfect weather here? Absolutely every day.

It’s always perfect weather for something.

Like taking a walk in the pouring rain. Carrying a bright red umbrella, splashing through the puddles and breathing in the fresh clean air.

When the wind is strong and the sun is hot, I hang my laundered sheets and towels outside and watch them billow and snap and dance on the line. Later when I gather them up in my arms and carry them inside they smell like heaven.

When its dull and overcast and cool, it’s perfect weather for throwing some comfort food in the crock pot, lighting a couple of scented candles, curling up in a comfy chair with an excellent book.

When it snows and blows and is dismally cold, that’s the perfect weather for digging out those fuzzy red socks with the reindeer on them that I got some long ago Christmas and swore I’d never wear. If I’m really lucky, I’ll also stumble upon the matching fuzzy red sweater and scarf that came with them.

When thunder rumbles and lightning flashes in the night sky, I love to sit in the dark and watch it through my rain streaked windows. I know some great, spooky, blood curdling stories. If you’ve heard them before, I can make up more. This is the perfect background weather for sharing spine chilling tales.

Tornados are great for hiding in the basement under the stairs. I’ve lived through one, and if there’s ever another, it will be a good time for learning to more fully appreciate nature’s powers. While I sit quietly contemplating the odds of an afterlife.

And really, no matter what the weather is like – hot, cold, wet, dry, not co-operating with whatever activity I’ve planned – it’s always the perfect topic for starting a conversation or filling up an awkward pause. The perfect reason to whine and complain, with no expectations on anyone’s part that anything at all can be done about it.

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