I wear my cold-weather wimp status without shame; I hate being cold. People who love winter baffle me....what is there to love? I get that the lack of mosquitoes and the bright cleanliness of snow is appealing, but really? The car locks freeze up, the endless shoveling of driveways, the scrambling over snowbanks, the dull, grey days that shut down into darkness in the late afternoon? Not to mention that there are little puddles of water on every floor, and I am bound to step in one in my stocking feet at least once a day. (Wet socks is one of Satan's very favorite playthings.) No, winter is a solid 5 months of putting your head down and getting through it.
A few years ago, the Mister and I were lucky enough to be given a trip to the sunny south by one of our suppliers; we earn points through purchasing supplies for the salon, and we had enough to go to Mexico for a week for a hairdressing event, did we want to go? OF COURSE we wanted to go! (Does anyone say "no"? Anyone without brain damage?)
This was the first time we had been away from our children for more than a night or two since they were born. (They were 17 and 20, at the time). And, more importantly, it was the most time we had had alone together since we had had children. ....a small part of me wondered if we had enough to even talk about for a week without the buffer of children...what if this brought to light a chasm in our marriage that had been hidden up until now? What if we found out we didn't like each other very much? What if all we could think about was how much we hated the way the other one ate?
Of course, I was an idiot and completely crazy, we went and had the most wonderful time. We laid on the beach and read and drank margaritas at 10 in the morning and ate guacamole at every meal and were able to remember why we were a couple in the first place. (People watching is spectacular in a place like that....we speculated endlessly on everyone's relationships and attire and behavior. Who knew that was the glue that kept us together?)
And, you know what? We were warm. Right down to your bones warm, and for a whole week, too. It was heavenly. I think that feeling of walking off a plane from the grey and the cold into blazing heat is one of the greatest sensations ever ever.
We enjoyed ourselves so much that, on the way home, we decided that we had to figure out a way to to that again, no matter what. I didn't care if I had to take up a part time job lap-dancing and the Mister had to sell one of whatever body part he had two of, we were going to have a week in the sun in the winter.
It did not quite come to that, it turns out you can get a week down south if you aren't very picky about where you go and how luxurious the accommodations are. We wanted somewhere safe, somewhere clean, somewhere cheap and somewhere we could fly directly to from our local airport, and that meant Cuba. Sure, the food is bland and kind of weird, there's not much hot water before noon and ice and spoons seem to be hoarded like gold ingots, but the people are lovely, the place is clean and secure and the beach is spectacular.
We've gone twice now, and are on our way again soon. It is my very favorite week of the year; we do absolutely nothing. I love the enforced relaxation; there's really not much to do at our resort except read, swim and occasionally get something to eat or drink. Some might find such a holiday boring, but as I am naturally inclined to sloth, it suits me just fine.
Not only do I get to go south for a week, I get to think about going south for MONTHS beforehand, which helps get me throught the dull, cold weeks after Christmas. Believe me, I am much easier to get along with when I have the thought of mojitos and sunscreen in my head while I am digging out the car on a frigid morning.
So, those of you who love the winter are welcome to it....I will plot my escape, while trying to avoid the little puddles of water on the floor.