Okay, I give in. I like winter.

I've decided that I have had a poor attitude about the winter season. Rather then enjoying it for what it is, and recognizing God's blessings in it, I have been merely surviving winter. I have this mind set of "just make it through the next few months, weeks and days and then it will be glorious spring!". Which is pretty typical, I think. Most people, especially in this area of the country have this sort of reasoning.

But no longer will I be this way. When I lived in the UP, winter stretched its icy grip from October until May. Literally. And I really loved it! I know that may sound insane, but I completely embraced the frigid temperatures and snowy landscapes.

I think that the difference was the general outlook of the population about the outside conditions. The meteorologists gave the weather report with the same enthusiasm and gusto as they would in mid July, rather then starting off each broadcast as though they are giving the uligy at their best friends funeral. The kids dutifully piled on the layers and had snowball fights at their bus stops, instead of praying every night for a snow day. The weekends were spent skiing, sledding, ice fishing or at hockey tournements and when the weather was cold, everyone was thrilled to take advantage of their piping hot saunas.

Even for someone like me, who can hardly be called an outdoors enthusiast (unless you count sunbathing, which my husband, one of those true outdoorsy types, doesn't), curling up with my knitting needles and a good chic flic was the ultimate weekend pasttime.

The point is, God doesn't make mistakes and He certaintly doesn't subscribe to the idea of purgatory. So winter was never meant to be just suffered through. It isn't just a temporary lull before the "real" seasons begin.

It is a gift. A time to love and embrace and eat rich foods, and watch entire seasons of Felicity while drinking hot chocolate (made with 4 scoops, not just three and complete with a layer of mini marshmellows), and to watch your puppy skip around the back yard with a small pile of snow on his nose and to wear baggy figure-hiding sweaters and chunky knit scarves.

So what if you have to start your car twenty minutes before you are supposed to leave... its kind of refreshing, isn't it? I mean, to hop into a toasty, well-oiled auto first thing in the morning? And whats the big deal about wearing boots and mittens? I LOVE mittens, personally. They are so comfy cozy and they really ignite my inner five year old (not that that take much work). And I'd rather a pair of ugly boots over pointy high heels any day! And who cares if the sidewalks are a tad slippery? Some of the absolute most hilarious moments in life happen on slick walk ways... ask my old roomate, Katie. I still snicker to myself obnoxiously when I think of her face plant outside the LRC back in 2004.

The point is: I like winter, now.

How rude.

I just don't understand what is going on in the world today. What has happened to manners? Where has the respect for our fellow man disapeared off to?

This afternoon at work, I was manning the office phones while everyone else ate lunch. This is for two reasons, 1. I tend to get hungry a good hour earlier then everyone else and 2. they all order out lunch and I, being the poverty-stricken kind of newlywed that I am, brown bag it every day. I don't mind answering the phones, usually, but I do wish that it didn't seem that everyone just counted on me to sit by myself and answer the phones while they enjoyed their takeout. Not to mention, their lunches seem to be getting longer and longer every day(something of which I am slightly embarassed to admit to you that I have been tracking)...

Anyhow, that's neither here nor there and completely not the point of this blog entry...

Back to my irritation with the general lack of politeness in modern day society. I recieved a phone call from a gentleman who wished to make a payment on his account. Fine. I asked for his credit card information and as I was writing it down, I couldn't help but notice that his voice was getting more and more muffled. Then I heard the unmistakeable sound of trickling water. I tried to ignore the sound... I mean, for all I knew, he was walking past a water fountain or something. Then the sound got louder... o-kay. Perhaps a waterfall, instead. Maybe he's calling me from Niagra Falls!

Then the flush came.

Ugh, I feel dirty just thinking about it. A man, as a matter of speaking, "took me to the bathroom" with him! I mean, really! Was he truely that busy? Can you honestly tell me that he was that focused on multi tasking?

How rude.

Slurping

I think that everyone should introduce the practice of slurping their drinks into their everyday lives. My husband taught me this, and I think that he originally started doing this for the very logical purpose of cooling his ultra steaming hot coffee before it burned his tongue. Early on in our marriage, this practice irritated me beyond belief. That along with his prefacing every sentance to me with "Uh, just so you know..." and his habit of hanging up my wet towel if it sat on the bad for more then 2.5 seconds after I got dressed. Anyhow, with the passing of time, the habit of slurping has somehow endeared itself to me. I would even go so far as to say that I have wholly embraced it. In fact, as I journal this epiphany, I am doing so in between healthy slurps of cold water.

So I just realized that I have started to do it, and much to my chargrin, along with that realization, came another. I really love to slurp. I find it uterly gratifying and I sincerely feel that it adds to my overall enjoyment of a drink. Not to mention, it brings a little satisfaction when I consider that my little slurps might be found slightly irritating to my kitty corner cubicle friend. And when I say friend, I am completley exaggerating, because she basically hates my guts for no reason. Except, now that I think of it, maybe my slurping is the reason behind her contempt.

Hmmm. Something to consider.

Learning to let go...

I've been doing a lot of over-the-top, way pensive, deep, soul searching type thinking lately, for a number of serious reasons, which I'm not quite ready to discuss just yet. In fact, I may not ever be fully ready and willing to write about any of it, but I have instead settled on sharing something that has really touched me...

"Surrender" by Barlow Girl

My hands hold softly to my dreams
Clutching tightly not one has fallen
So many years I've shaped each one
Reflecting my heart showing who I am
Now you're asking me to show
What I'm holding oh so tightly
Can't open my hands can't let go
Does it matter?
Should I show you?
Can't you let me go?

Surrender, surrender you whisper gently
You say I will be free
I know but can't you see?
My dreams are me. My dreams are me.

You say you have a plan for me
And that you want the best for my life
Told me the world had yet to see
What you can do with one
That's committed to Your calling
I know of course what I should do
That I can't hold these dreams forever
If I give them now to You
Will You take them away forever?
Or can I dream again?