Bad Weather

Have you ever heard that expression, "There is no bad weather, just bad clothing choices"?  I embrace that. 

Facebook posts from friends in Southern California have them basking in superlatives about the 80 degree weather in January and "Ooh, I am cold, I think I will turn down the air conditioning." (I thought that one was pretty brilliant.)  But I did not feel any envy- none. 

One of the many things I like about living in New York is the weather.  If you don't like this weather just hold on another kind of weather is just around the corner.  I thoroughly enjoy the seasons.  I was just ice skating in Central Park with the chill in the air, a scarf around my neck, warm gloves on my hands and the sun on my face.  The other night I came in from the chill of the icy rain and ate hot soup as the rain clattered against my window.  How do you get that feeling when it there are tank tops and flip flops passing by outside?  You don't.  And tank tops and flip flops will be soon enough.

In my mind January is for snow and chill and slush and layers and scarves and soup and taking a hot steam at the gym.  I do not desire 80 degrees. I desire wool and hot cocoa.