This morning when I saw a grey sky out my window I smiled. I love rainy cold days. So much so that when the sun started to crack through the clouds a grump fell over me that was worse than if you had shot my dog.
Yes, I’m aware there is something wrong with me with respect to the sunlight. I’m not a fan. Most of the summer, I am cloistered in my home waiting for the sun to go away. It could be because my Nordic skin fries to a crisp the instant I step out the door. It could be that I have no tolerance for heat, and I become lethargic in the heat. Whatever the reason the sun and I are only passing acquaintances.
Cold and rainy days make me productive. An urge to cook, bake, clean, write, and read grips me on a rainy day. A week long drizzle will find my family 20 lbs. heavier, my house spotless, and pages of books both written and read. It’s awesome!
I’m sorry to all the sun worshipers that I frequently wish your precious sun away. Excuse me while I crank up Eddie Rabbit’s I Love a Rainy Night.
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