Cold Feet

The weather is still cold, and I’m still crabby. I can practically hear you all now collectively saying, “Oh, for the love of all that is holy and good, will the woman get over the fact that the nighttime temperatures dropped into the 30s.” But I finally figured out that the reason I’m crabby actually has little to do with the weather. I’m crabby because, well, I’m simply a grouch. I’m getting a head start on the Get-Off-My-Lawn-Old-Person Crabbiness. And I’m pretty good at it. I learned everything I know from my brother who can do grumpiness better than anyone, especially for a pretty pleasant guy. It’s a gift.

As I pondered my crabbiness as it relates to cold weather, I realized that while Bill dislikes cold weather even more than I, he has a valid reason. Cold weather exacerbates his PD symptoms. In cold weather, his hands get so cold, they could cool down a pitcher of warm lemonade.

I, on the other hand, dislike cold weather primarily for two reasons: coats and shoes.

I’ve never been a big fan of shoes. Most of my grandkids are the same way. They deposit their shoes in the entryway as soon as they come in the house. They would leave them off until they go home except for the fact that if their visit involves outdoor activities, I insist they wear shoes outside because we have lots of wasp visitors. Wasps as in the mean-spirited stinging insects, not wasps as in Princeton grads who summer in the Hamptons.

My grandmother used to tell me a story about the time she took me to the five and dime store a couple of blocks from the bakery when I was 5 or 6 years old. When we left her apartment above the bakery, I was wearing shoes. When we returned, I was not. We trudged back to the store and went aisle by aisle, finally finding the shoes which I had apparently discarded. I have no recollection of that day, but I also have no doubt that the story is true. I still often wish I could discard my shoes while shopping.

Take yesterday’s trip to Target. I was forced to wear regular close-toed, rubber-bottomed shoes as there were snow flurries on and off all day long. Rubber-bottomed shoes and I don’t get along. After a couple of episodes of my shoes sticking to the floor as I walked, nearly sending me flying, I finally began carefully lifting my feet as I took a step. I resembled a dressage horse…..

Alas, the weather required me to wear something other than my flip flops.

As for coats, I hate them. HATE them. Winter coats truly make me feel as though I’m in a strait jacket. Trying to get in and out of the car is bad enough, but the simple act of putting on a seat belt is like wrestling Hulk Hogan. So frankly, I mostly don’t wear a coat except under the most dire conditions. Like 10 degrees below zero.

It won’t be long before we leave for AZ, where I still often don’t wear shoes. There’s no snow, but there’s scorpions! They make me even crankier than cold weather.

2 thoughts on “Cold Feet

  1. If your form looked like that horse you both had excellent form.
    I’m right there with you with this cold weather. I’ve been coaching myself all week that I have to continue taking my walks even when the weather is cold and damp. Yuck.

  2. Hysterical! Maybe it is genetic. You come from a long line of funny yet crabby people! “It’s a gift”.

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