Hybernation


There is a chill in the air.

Actually, it’s been here for several days now. We are in the middle of winter — in the middle of autumn, in the middle of October. I threw down-vests and cotton gloves in the wash last night, totally unprepared for the first frost this morning. Yesterday, I tried last year’s warmer coats on confused faces. Memories of the last two Octobers with bright, sunshiny skies and shorts — are in the distant past. In the last few days, I have made hot chocolate garnished with dancing marshmallows, and snuggled into my husband in front of the fireplace. For the second week in a row, I’m cooking a hearty soup in the crock pot. There is farina for breakfast.

What the hell is going on?

My 7-year old wore shorts every day to school last week, even though the mornings started out in the 40s. She is trying her darndest to out-stubborn this premature winter. She feels robbed of her typical extended summer. This morning, it was in the low thirties. The air is so crisp it shocks the skin. We argued about her wearing the thinnest of fleece coats. She would have nothing of it.

I paged through the discounted winter coats in the Lands End catalog last night. I’m wondering whether I need to get the kids real winter coats this year, with gloves thicker than tissue paper.

Also, the girls have hardly been outside for recess at school because of the rains. It has been terrible. They are growing restless and bickering with me and each other. The baby and I get dressed to go outside only to be confronted by a downpour at the front porch. None of the girls have ever owned raincoats or rainboots until this year. Now we play regularly in puddles and soaked hair.

Where on earth is that Georgia weather I once knew and loved?

I’m spirited away, over at skirt!

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