Confession time.
When I lived in Arkansas and it got “cold”, I would judge my fellow Arkansans on their inability to withstand winter temperatures. I would routinely, in my judgmental Yankee head, and sometimes out loud, scoff, “I’m from New England! This isn’t cold!”
However, when I was searching for my next home, I really, really didn’t think I’d come back north, because, well, I grew to really, really love those mild Arkansas winters. I loved taking Sadie on a hike around Lake Sequoyah with only a fleece for warmth…in JANUARY. I remember cleaning my garage on New Year’s Day one year. And hints of spring on the first of March? Bliss.
Yet, Boston is now my home. On the weekend that I moved into my new apartment, I and an intrepid friend shoveled nearly two feet of snow out of 5 parking spaces to make room for my POD. The weather has been mercurial so far this winter, fluctuating from sub zero wind chills to 40+ days (not unlike Arkansas, I should say). However, unlike Arkansas, I don’t drive from point A to B in Boston; I ride the bus, or the train, or walk. I walk a lot. And so, I feel the cold more.
I have absolutely no regrets about my move to Boston (please note that missing my friends is not officially a regret). Indeed I am LOVING being there. However, I’d be lying if I said that I’ve been a little weary of spirit lately. Part of it is the stress of moving. Part of it is that I haven’t gotten back into my swimming routine. Part of it is learning how to deal with working in an office again. And part of it is that the weather makes me sniffle more, shiver more, and I will admit, long for a warm Arkansas winter day a little more.
And this brings me to right here, this moment. I am sitting in my hotel room in Costa Mesa, California, on the balcony, I must confess, watching the sun go down behind a few palm trees. It’s been in the 80’s and I’ve walked all over the place in – gasp – short sleeves. I think my cheeks are a little sunburned simply from having tea while sitting outside a Starbucks. I’ve ordered room service, and soon I will don a light sweater for my short walk to the concert hall.
I’m here for work, my first touring experience with From the Top, but that’s a whole ‘nother soul-filling story for another day. For now, I just can’t help but feel that this little Orange County interlude was exactly, EXACTLY what I needed to recharge my batteries. I will see the Pacific Ocean tomorrow, and good friends, and I’ll be reminded yet again to work hard and save my pennies, so I can visit the warm places of the world when my pale Yankee skin needs a little dose of Vitamin D.
Everything and a Racehorse 