While I was very vocally complaining (May through September) about the 115-degree summer, kind friends here kept saying, "Oh, you'll love being here when it's winter. You'll love it here." So I waited. And waited. And waited....to be happy about the weather here. (Trust me, I love everything else very much.)
Today, it happened!! I was joyfully shocked to find that the sun was shining out of a bright blue sky, and no goosebumps raised on my arms when I dropped Reed off to school.
Then I got home, and it was still warm. (Sometimes I think it's warm and then I'm tricked because it's NOT.)
It was 63 degrees. (Just SAYING it is like a blanket on your shoulders or the sun rising at 5:30a.m. instead of almost 8:00a.m.......) I knew it was a good time to tackle one of the huge jobs I've been purposefully procrastinating since.....well, since May. When we moved in. I cleaned out the garage. The finished product wasn't as incredible as the end picture in my mind, but I cleared about five feet of space, which means that when Phill comes home, he will easily pull the car into the garage, without having to maneuver around the bookshelf and stroller and three bins and two bags, etc., that didn't belong in the garage in the first place. And there are no marshmallows on the garage floor, and no more secret spiderwebs in children's playing blocks. YAY!
And in my busy goings-on, I had barely any time to think of how much I wish Phill was home and not in his car on the way to San Antonio (barely). And I took the babies to the library. And I took the crap to D.I. (And I watched a guy donate a toilet, while I loudly guffawed in my car, probably the perfect picture of Crazy to any onlookers.) And I vacuumed.
It was a good day.
Thank you, 63 degrees in January.