God makes weather that cold?
It.is.cold. One of those days where my outfit consists of long johns under my jeans, two (maybe three) pairs of socks, an undershirt, a tank top, a long-sleeved shirt, a sweater, my warmest jacket, a scarf, tuke, two pairs of gloves and Uggs. This extra 10 pounds of clothing makes walking from the door to the car somewhat more bearable (stop judging, I know I’m a wimp and spoiled…at least I admit it!).
Today, the low, including wind chill, is –50 degrees celsius. “NO?.!” you say. “God makes weather that cold?!!” I know, I know….but I don’t lie (that’s immoral, almost as immoral as making weather this cold. God, is Satan peer pressuring you again?). I’m not sure you can all appreciate how much I detest the cold. You’re saying, “why then, Liz, are you living in Canada?” and you’re thinking “poor, poor, stupid girl”. I know. I ask myself the same things when I realize I’m living in a place that experiences approximately 3 months of summer (which often likes to pretend it’s more like Spring and Fall).
You’d think after the 4 1/2 years I’ve lived here I’d suck it up, get used to it. Uhhhh, no. Not even f*cking close. Winter always comes, usually unannounced, and barges into life. I’m like “oh…hey…you..I thought I told you we were over. I just can’t take seeing you again…now…like this. I’m in love with summer, why can’t you understand…”. Yea, I talk to winter like a psycho ex who won’t stop showing up at my door, all cold like. Don’t get me wrong, winter is pretty, I guess that’s why we have such a complicated relationship…
I like the accessories that come with winter (even though its personality sucks). I love sweaters, the smell of fires and pine. I love the way the ground looks like it’s littered with sparkles. I love how calm untouched snow looks. I love Starbucks seasonal flavors. I love any excuse to cuddle closer to keep warm. I love driving around and looking at everyone’s Christmas lights (and making fun of the Griswold Christmas Vacation type houses). I love the root vegetables and squashes in season that become addictive on chilly nights. I love the endless string of christmas parties (however-these can quickly show up on my dislike list…). I love enough, and that’s part of the reason I’ve survived (I don’t believe surviving is an exaggeration by any means!). I’ve tolerated the winter mostly because it means I’m with the love of my life, Nor (Connor). See, he’s Canadian, and after a dramatic union (a story for another day) in Orange County, California (where I was living at the time and he was playing baseball in college), he had to move back up to Canada. I followed. I was applying for schools and applied to The University of Calgary on a whim when we realized him moving and me staying meant we wouldn’t be together (I know, it’s rocket science folks). So, here I am. A random and impromptu Chemistry SAT later (I had to take it to get into U of C…don’t ask…) I’m here.
I don’t plan to stay forever, we regularly fantasize about all the warm places we will live (please realize that I grew up on an island in the Pacific ocean from age 5-18). We have dreams of traveling and buying islands and boats and wearing sandles everyday (they are dreams people, I’m rich in them-don’t judge).
On thing the winter does, specifically its-50 degree celsius temperatures, is make me thankful. I’m so thankful to have a roof over my head, a fridge full of food, a shower where I can defrost after walking home, a thick blanket I can escape under. I’m thankful for the job I have to pay for the heat I blast too high throughout these cold months. The wine I drink to dull the chill (kidding, kidding..kinda..). The boy I have to cuddle with and warm my “death feet” as he calls them. I’m thankful that I’m able to buy gifts for the ones I love and that I receive gifts that I do not need. I am not ignorant. I blatantly see how privileged I am, and in this, I must give thanks. In all this thanks I need to give more “you’re welcomes”. It motivates me to give back, to choose to make my Christmas present a contribution to a family that Connor’s mom, Connie, hosts at Christmas. I don’t give enough, that’s for sure. But it is a goal I would like to work on.
Complaining is easy (see above…and below). However, it doesn’t change anything. I probably pissed God off and now he’s all like “you brat, I’m gonna make it -56 tomorrow cause you can’t shut up and just put on a fourth pair of socks”. Talking (or complaing) is easy. Acting is harder. I want to act-do more for those who don’t get to wear those cuddly sweaters, or have a car to get into to drive to work, or enough to fill their bellies.
Call me out people, keep me on track. My face will remain in this position for a lot of the winter (I’ve tried smiles…they are harder, lets compromise…)
Give me this look…
I’ll attempt to impersonate a smile
I know such a negative attitude isn’t conducive to “Nourishing Me”. I’ll work on my poopy attitude….and…sorry God…but -50?? Seriously dude?!