I like the cold. I know that’s an unpopular sentiment. My SO from the NE is one who would spend every day at climates of 100 degrees and climbing. Maybe because I was raised in the deep south, I’ve had enough of hot weather.
I like seasons and warm drinks and the brisk feel of the cold on your skin as you take a walk. I conceded these thing are all much more fun in the country or woods with a fairy tale background. They were less fun as I pulsed through a teeming city in the dark early morning, passing black snow drifts and stepping off into endless icy water filled potholes. Yeah, that sucked.
It never gets cold here not even now after being back for years and re-acclimating to the climate. It’s always only a coldish snap followed rapidly by a return to warmth. I always enjoy when we go somewhere cold for vacation but I’m the only one in my family who does.
Oh well, I sometime let my writing take me to places I wished I lived. I sometimes limit myself by places I’ve been and know well. I don’t want to seem clueless about an area or its local fabric. There’s nothing worse than being dense about a cultural reality and having that shining through in your writing.
One of my goals over the next few years is to travel. That was easier when I was a single career girl. It’s not as easy now that the kids have relentless activities that sometimes become my vacations. It’s a price but not one I’m so sad to pay. I’ll get to travel again soon enough, too soon enough.
In the meantime, Google Earth will have to suffice and some of these cool travel blogs I’m following. Thank goodness for Google and carefree souls with a great eye for beautiful places.