Winter is really dug in here in Wisconsin. To stay, it would seem. All of Wisconsin seems to be in an icy death grip by a season that just won't quit.
All of you out there in America's Dairyland who are as fed up as I am with this climate have my utmost sympathy. I have a real bad case of cabin fever. I hate white and gray, which were once two of my favorite colors. The City of Milwaukee looks like a big greasy black snow cone.
It is a cruel month, to say the least, and every day the weatherman brings more.
My cat's internal clock is telling him its spring; he meows at the backdoor and insists on being let out. He has hibernated all winter; I've never seen anything sleep quite the way my cat sleeps all winter long. Alas, he was outside for all of one minute today. When I opened the back door he leaped in, clearing three steps in a single bound and made a beeline for my bed with its angora blanket, which someday I may actually get to use. For the moment, it belongs to Muggle. I don't have the heart to remove him from it. As if he'd let me.
My dog is failing and it is time to address the fact her life is not good and we should help her. My husband and I are heartbroken, but are slowly coming to terms with the loss of a good and faithful friend. Still, she is sleeping on the floor, blind, confused, unhappy, and we are trying to resolve our own (somewhat selfish?) needs with what's best for her. It is an unhappy moment when we lose one of our furry friends and we are procrastinating mightily. I'm beginning to see that this is the height of insanity. But we both have to be ready and willing to face the loss.
Meanwhile, I will bless the day when I finally pack up and move out of this frozen wasteland to a southern climate. I will make every attempt to never travel north of the Mason/Dixon line anytime from November to May. I will make it my life's work to never ever see another snowflake as long as I live, unless it's on a mountain top which I'm viewing from a valley far below. I will burn all my woolen mittens, scarves, winter coats, boots and hats. I will spend the rest of my life wearing thin little cotton dresses and sandals and lamenting the heat. My toes will be out; no more socks. Ever. I will drink hurricanes and mai tais and icy cold beers and bask in sunshine the rest of my natural born days. Can't come soon enough.