I’m enjoying this whole blog-the-night-before-the-post-is-supposed-to-be-up thing. I’ve been looking forward to blogging all day – usually I dreaded it because really, I didn’t think I had anything interesting to say. And I would worry that my posts weren’t “special enough” for you to use up 3 minutes of your life to read. And then I just finally decided, oh well! I can’t please everybody so I might as well write things I like to write about, even if it’s not deemed of the utmost importance. :)
It’s already pretty late and I’m excited to snuggle in my jammies. It’s freezing outside but we’re cocooned in our little house with that glorious heater running. Oh how I love Minnesota. :) I think I was born to live in this type of state. I need four seasons to keep me occupied. I get entirely way too bored with each season (except for fall – I can’t get enough of it) that it’s a relief when the next one comes along. Yes, even the unbearable winters. When winter comes everything gets softer, calmer, cozier…it’s when I feel the most relaxed. One of my girlfriends was telling me that her friend moved to California and said how refreshing it was to not feel the guilt from the weather. She said that living in Minnesota, she would try and get as much outdoor activities done as possible in the long, warm days of summer because as soon as winter came, it was if we were stuck. If she didn’t do enough in the summer, she would feel guilty if she just sat around. To be honest, sometimes I feel that way in the summer. If I don’t get outside to just enjoy it at least twice a day (during the workday), I feel like I just wasted a complete day and who knows when that good weather will come back? But when winter comes, I don’t feel that guilt. I feel the summer weather pressure lift and it’s like the snow and the cold are saying, “Go ahead, Nikki. Snuggle in your couch. Read a few more chapters. Go ahead and have that second pot of tea. Daydream a little more.” Doesn’t your snow outside talk to you too?
We live in a small town, next to another relatively small town, Waconia – a place I love with my whole heart and soul. When we first visited Waconia, I felt like I was finally coming home. Have you ever felt like that just by visiting somewhere? It’s a wonderful feeling and I wanted to hold onto it for as long as I could. We had found a house in the most perfect location; across the street from Lake Waconia, two blocks from our favorite ice-cream parlor, 4 blocks from the movie theater, and nestled in the heart of this adorable Mom & Pop town. Before we could even say the words “Let’s make an offer”, the house sold. I may have cried. The house was yellow with white shutters for pete’s sake. With a widow’s peak. Need I say more?? However, my wounds healed and later that year we bought our first house, amazingly enough only a few miles from that wonderful place.
So, when we “go out on the town”, we go to Waconia. We might get ice-cream and walk through the lakeshore neighborhoods, or stroll through the antique shop (where half of our decor and furniture are from), or get breakfast at the cafe, or go see a movie. Tonight we parked kitty corner from the old movie theater; crossed the street in the frigid cold while passing people chatting over coffee at the cafe, street lamps glowing in the dark, houses with their front porch lights on, the freezing lake at the end of the hill.
We entered the blessed warmth of the theater, ordered our usual popcorn, took our seats, and didn’t care that two hours of our day was being devoted to staring at an overly large screen. It’s winter; we’re allowed, it says.