Living in the Pacific Northwest means you live with rain. “It’s what makes the skin of Northwesterners so beautiful and healthy.” That’s what a friend of mine once said. Bah.
We’re dealing with news headlines like…
The wettest January in 30 yearsYeah, whatever. I looked at my hand today and almost didn’t recognize the pale, ghostly appendage at the end of my long-sleeved arm. The freckles and “sun spots” on my face are so apparent. I don’t usually think I have freckles. (Doing these self portraits has brought this item to my attention.) But it’s the psychological crap this weather does to me that’s hard to handle.
No relief for Portland, a city that is seeing the most January rain in 3 decades
Flood Watch issued by the National Weather Service
Rain forecast for the next kajillion years.
Peeps, I grew up in Southern California. The beach on Christmas, summer clothes year round. Bare feet, tans, swimming, shorts: these weren’t just enjoyed for a few months a year. It’s engrained in my psyche to enjoy sun and sunshine. Do you know what it feels like when you lay in the sun, on a hot rock or cement, and the heat seeping through your body catches your breathe and just makes you go into the warmth? I love that feeling. And right about now, this time of year, I hang onto memories and thoughts like that.
And I stare out the window and dream. It’s a good time for me, too. It forces me to stop and reflect. Imagine. (And stare at my white scary hands.) I make a point to get out as soon as the sun is there (as I can), and wow, do I ever appreciate the sun this time of year. “Hello my friend!”
Rain rain go awayOr just give me a frickin’ break, okay?
Please come back some other day
Wet, cold, soggy, pasty white. That’s me. Happy Self Portrait Tuesday.