I do believe I may be turning southern.
Not in an eating grits kind of way. I'm too old to feel the need to try grits. Before anyone starts singing "try it, you'll like it" (thank you very much Yo Gabba Gabba) I feel the need to say: "no". Maybe I would like it. You're right. Maybe this very day I'm missing out on so much greatness in life. Who knows how fulfilled I could feel by trying grits and perhaps liking them!
And then again, maybe not.
It's no secret to me that I really don't give a rat's toenail about food. I could easily eat the same 5 things in revolution for a very long time. I have a very simple palatte, and it prefers to stay that way. I am old enough now to eat dessert instead of dinner; not clean my plate if I don't want to; have Pop whenever I want (yup, said Pop. Not so southern huh....) and I don't have to try food I don't want to try. So there.
But, back to the main point here. 9 years ago this coming week we made our way down here to check the place out. And, then moved just a few weeks later. 37+ months of pregnancies, nearly 36 months of breastfeeding, and never ending diapers later...and I'm finally getting used to the weather. And part of that means not missing the snow and cold so much.
It was about 36 and rainy here today, but the real feel was 31. We were briefly out running an errand. brrr, it was very cold. It's supposed to be 65 on Thursday, and many days there are 60 degree temperatures forecasted. I know in another month I will probably be stashing the few sweaters I've gotten out this year and putting the warm coats away. And I'm sure in another few months I will be complaining about the heat. Because, even though I may be getting used to the southern weather, I'm still a good Yankee and I'm going to complain Honestly.
The thought of living somewhere where it would take an extra 15 minutes just to get my kids dressed to go outside just sounds...tirelessly burdensome. I do love snow. I miss skiiing. The girls (think) they are dying to play in it, build snowmen, etc. The little bit we saw on our return trip home at Christmas made me question how much I "didn't" miss it.
I don't think it's so much that I'm turning southern, I think I'm accepting my place. I still feel homesick in the Fall, when the crispness of the northern air hits hard around my birthday, and the beauty and color of the leaves is unmatchable. The cider mill scent no candle can match, the pre-holiday feeling like nature's dressing room trying on the perfect ensemble.
I've found an outfit of my own and it finally fits, after 9 years of trying. My family is complete, and as we all grow and say goodbye to the few baby items that we manage to rid ourselves of each week, we look forward to new memories. Thanksgiving in shorts, summers where it's too hot to play outside, winters where it's too beautiful not to play ball in the street.
And sometime, ya'll, I think if I left, I would wonder which home I would be sick for then.
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