WHO ORDERED WINTER?

I'd like to know who ordered winter.

Last week.

This morning.

This afternoon, thankfully.

(Below is the "big mouthed frog" my niece, Lezlie gave me. Do you know that joke about the big mouthed frog?)

Last week. This morning.
I love a good joke but...enough already.

IT'S ALL FUN AND GAMES AT GRANDMA'S HOUSE UNTIL SOMEONE MELTS

We have a gas fireplace in the family room. I love it. That room was always cold and I freeze all winter so it is a wonderful thing for me.

The other day Gilmore Girl was here with her two girls, Curly Sue and Tuesday. Gilmore Girl, Phil--who, Gilmore Girl says needs a nickname--send suggestions--and I were upstairs visiting and then she cut our hair. I fixed dinner because the Fearless Hunter was going to be home late and so they decided to stay over and eat.

The girls had been downstairs playing and watching TV for a couple of hours. When I called them upstairs to eat they nearly melted up the steps. They didn't so much as sit at the table but wilted in their chairs and oozed melty words, like syrup. Then I realized that the temperature downstairs must be about eighty-five degrees. Just right for me. Not so right for anyone with blood that still circulates.

So, if you come to my house in the winter be prepared. Or you could (sing ), "...a little song, (do) a little dance, (put) a little seltzer down your pants." That'd cool you off. The girls will have to do with some ice cubes because I don't have any seltzer.

You have been warned.

RAIN, RAIN, GLORIOUS RAIN

I was going to title this post: "Rain, rain, go away," but thought, How ungrateful. We are coming out of a drought and I am whining about the rain. One of the talks in church yesterday was about gratitude, and so I'm going to be grateful. The rain as glorious. That's what I've decided. And really, it is.

Glorious rain. Washes the earth clean of the stains of all kinds of things from the potting soil I spilled to the dirt on the car. The dust is washed off the trees, the grass is refreshed, the streams and rivers are plumped and the fish eat bits of tasty fish-snacks that have tumbled into the water.

The weather is cool. Perhaps next week we will be sweltering, the air conditioners thrumming into the evenings. One neighbor runs his air conditioner all night. No open windows for him. They should know the feel of the breeze--if there is one--or the joy of kicking off covers and sleeping on top of the sheets.

When the kids were younger and our car's air conditioner gasped it's last we rolled the windows down. When we passed cars with the window's rolled up I would tell the kids, "Oh, look at those poor people. They don't get to experience summer." We laughed our way though the hot days and didn't feel sorry for ourselves a bit.

And so, I am going to love the rain tomorrow and if we get rain the next day I am going to enjoy that too. And if we get sweltering days I am going to kick covers. I'm going to experience whatever we get and be happy about it.

I'm even going to repent of all my whining about the endless winter. Yes sir-ree, I'm going to repent.

We aren't going to get more winter, are we? Because it's easier to repent if you know there won't be a repeat of what caused all the whining in the first place. No more winter, right? I'm just askin'.

AM I THE ONE KEEPING WINTER GOING?

Yesterday morning it was like spring. The snow was melting, I could almost hear the water seeping into Mother Earth, soaking around the roots of the trees and bulbs, waking them up. Several hours later, when we came out of church it was cold again. When I went upstairs to change clothes I looked at this winger scene.

The bed, all dressed for winter with the Christmas pillows and bears in residence.

Am I unwittingly keeping winter here, like the groundhog, who sees his shadow and prolongs winter by six weeks?