Winter

It seems to be about this time of year when everyone starts to officially get tired of winter. It has been a particularly cold week here, and everyone around me seems to be grumbling about it. While talk about the weather is usually the essential conversation starter, it has started to permeate--rather than jumpstart--conversations around me.

I am not a summer person. At all. When I think of things I hate the most, one of the first things I think of is being hot. I have a very low tolerance for heat and I seem to get hot much faster than the average person (you should see me at the gym--I turn the shade of a tomato within five minutes and people are constantly wondering if I am okay). Unless I am working out, I do not want to sweat. I have little to no interest in a sunny, warm, sandy beach. I don't think I've worn a bathing suit in four years, though this is closely related to another dislike of mine: shaving my legs.

And so, while other people are grumbling, I revel in this time of year. Yes, my skin is getting too dry, and I really hate getting in the shower in the morning when it is so friggin' cold. But I love curling up under my heavy comforter with a book. I love ducking into a coffee shop or a restaurant to escape the cold with a steaming beverage or a hot bowl of soup. I love wearing my favorite big blue fuzzy slippers and my fleece pajama pants. I adore big comfy turtleneck sweaters, and I am always happy wearing my beloved purple sequined scarf.

Every since I was little, I cannot seem to get over the excitement of being able to see my breath crystallize when it hits the cold air. And snow. . . ah, snow. We've only had one good snow so far this season, and I keep wishing for more.

So, yes, winter has its nuisances, and I understand why some people hate it (my friend Lena who lives in Iowa City has every right to complain). But among the grumbling, I'm trying to enjoy the peaceful stillness that winter brings. If I only had a fireplace, it would be my heaven.