Our topic today is windows. Not deer. Not ducks. Windows. And I overstated with ‘season’ when ‘couple of days’ is more appropriate. The title is a confusing mess, I know, but I’m anxious to get outside. So, it’ll do.
You see, yesterday brought bright sunshine and 65 lovely degrees. And guess what. Most of them are still here. Do you know what such temperatures do to folks who’ve been locked away for months, hiding from the merciless cold? Well, I’ll tell you: it turns dignified grown-ups into goofy teenagers. They become lively and foolish and some actually whistle — Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah, mostly. A select few drive with the top down. I saw one guy rolling up his sleeves with my own two eyes.
Clearly, we’re acting out of character. Like Californians.
This weather is parole for the crime of living in the Midwest, which ought to be punishment enough, I believe. Sensible people flee the region immediately following Christmas, while the dopey ones linger and get frozen in place. Truthfully, our little corner of the world here has the charm of a cryogenic chamber from November through mid-March. Or until the spring thaw unshackles us from heavy coats and dorky hats and abject misery.
That thaw arrived unexpectedly yesterday. And the first thing we did, as always, was throw open the windows. Wide. Let fresh air in, stale air out. We breathe deep, grateful the nose hairs don’t freeze. Grateful for the hope of renewal. Grateful not to be frozen like fish sticks. It’s a heady time.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a powerful urge to go outside and frolic like a 4-year old on a sugar rush.
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