When the temperature here gets in the 80's a mere week before the myriad of winter celebrations begins, I get this odd feeling. Something's not right. Yesterday my daughters went to the grocery store sporting tanktop dresses and sockless shoes. It was that hot.
I don't want to argue the pros and cons or tout scientific research proving the harmful effects of global warming, but all you have to do is visit Florida this December to see something's going on. Something's off kilter down here. It's winter, it should be cold and it's not.
I remember about ten years ago, doing holiday shopping the morning after Thanksgiving and freezing my ass off. Donning hat, scarf, jacket, tall socks and hot coffee. I haven't worn any of those yet this year.
Something inside me screams for cold winters huddled around a fire. Certain things are supposed to be done according to the time of year. Taking out the sewing box to work on that quilt or gathering up the unspun wool from the season listening to my son read and smelling the rich scent of burning wood we gathered and chopped while I spin yarn into something useable. Working on those projects the summer months won't allow. Not saying that I couldn't do that here in the Sunshine State, but the cooler days (the 80's is considered cool here) are calling us out and my "winterized" garden is bursting with crops. I have probably two dozen tomatoes on the vine, the garlic, shallots and onions that were supposed to wait out until spring are proliferating. I just found two blooms on the snap peas.
Sometimes I think I was born in the wrong era. So many people I know just look for the easier way to do things. I dream of work. Farm work. Why spend countless hours making a single hat when you can go buy one in only a few minutes? They say. Because it's just not the same, I reply. I would love to sit and plan out the kids wardrobes, purchase fabrics specifically for it, take a month to sew it all out in between the other chores a household of seven requires. Raise a sheep, shear it, spin the wool and make a hat. There's some strange tingling feeling I get when I see how the world is made to work together.
That sheep will graze, it'll shit, that shit will fertilize my garden, it'll have babies to sell or add to the flock, I give to it; care, food, shelter, companionship and it gives back to me. A symbiotic relationship that makes the world turn. It's the way it's supposed to be. It's supposed to be winter though, too.