I am freezing. It’s always cold in my mama’s house. Always. I don’t even like socks, but I currently have on a pair. I’m at my desk typing this post and my fingers are cold.
Funny how last week I took this picture above. The weather was confused. I had on capris. The plants were thinking about blooming. Jack Frost has surely killed that bloom by now. No hope for its survival at the end of December.
There’s beauty in the crisp, cold air that takes your breath away. It’s not all sunshine in roses. The world seems to move a little slower when it’s freezing. I watch my old cat, Tyler, walk across the carport with a hitch in his step. The poor old guy surely wouldn’t take a pill, but he’s getting around a little worse these days. Winter seems to freeze everything up.
Friends seem a little frozen. Things haven’t been the same since I left. I come home and it seems as if everyone wants to pull me in a million different directions. I’m stuck. Frozen. I want to see everyone and to make everyone happy, but I want to make myself happy. I want to have fun, but I also desperately crave time to relax. Time to make things, time to read, time to take advantage of my parents’ cable.
I feel like I’m failing at all parts. Not enough time with friends, but not enough time at home just relaxing either. I can’t please everyone, but at the end of the day I have to learn to live with it.
Before I know it, I’ll be headed back to the place where things are really frozen. I’ve missed my Staunton house, but it’s been good to be home.