snowy

When I was a kid, we grew tadpoles in the backyard. They turned into the tiniest little frogs, and lived in the mud in the backyard until it got to be too hot and it all dried out. I don't know what happened to them after that. Probably, they just died, or hopped away to find some other water. At the time I liked to think they buried themselves really deep, and just slept until it started raining again.

It didn't snow in Northern California like it does in Southeastern Idaho, at least not where we lived. That was a strange thing to get used to, the snow. At first I loved it, because it was such a novelty. I learned to drive in the snow. It didn't take too long for me to learn to absolutely despise it, especially because it lasted till mid-May most years, turning brown and icy and gross.

It's snowed here in Moscow a lot this week, but I find myself more okay with it. This is the first major snow we've experienced here, and already a lot of it has melted away (which makes for pretty sucky driving, but that's just the way it goes).

More than anything, I hate being cold. Our apartment is not well insulated, and the heaters are old, old. So I spend a lot of time bundled up in my room, sitting in front of the space heater and praying for spring.

Being cold makes me feel sad. And sort of grumpy.

I try to keep it away by drinking lots of tea and hot chocolate and coffee. It helps. And cuddling with the kitties, because those creatures hold in a lot of heat. It's the best when I'm in bed and they curl up on my legs.