I opened the curtains this morning and yelled MOTHERFUCKER! at the snow falling in thick flakes all over the point. Then I turned to apologize to Sam who was finishing his coffee at the sink. He grinned at me and told me to accept what I cannot change and I said I'm going to move the patio heaters all around the yard today to melt it all. Ben laughed and asked me who was going to move them again since they are exceedingly heavy and hardly as 'portable' as they are advertised to be, and I told him he was. He frowned in mock disappointment and told me to wait a few hours, that the rain will follow the snow and wash it all away.
Oh, great! More rain! This is not mock disappointment from me, but despair.
I'm not complaining!
Yes, you are. August laughs and then his eyes drop to study his coffee intently when I turn to look at him.
This sucks! I hate winter. I hate rain.
Tell us how you really feel. Lochlan's going to gang up on me too. Hey, they treat me like a kid I can act like one. February and March are hard months to be a Canadian, probably not for most British Columbians, but I'm not a British Columbian, am I? And this isn't even normal weather for here. I'm beginning to think the snow just follows me around from province to province like a big white annoying shadow.
On the upside, it's light out for almost twelve hours a day now. Right, Bridge?
Did I mention PJ is my favorite? I nod, suddenly comforted. At least that shows me we are indeed still turning toward spring and not stalled out, a big blue ball stuck in space in an endless season all around.
There you go, he says. Stop riling her up, guys.
We didn't make it snow, it does that on it's own. It's called weather, Ben points out unhelpfully.
Well, it needs to stop that, I tell him.
I'll tell it you said so.