When we first moved down here I reveled in the lack of winter and seasonal changes.
The first Christmas was so liberating. We had the house wide open. We even swam in the pool in our Santa hats! (Note: we don’t have a heated pool! Silly Northerners!)
But I soon found myself missing the seasonal indications of passing time. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t miss northern winters………at all. (Well, maybe just a little during a hot flash.)
But I never realized how much I depended on these signals.
Up north the days grow shorter and cooler. The trees start to drop their leaves and you know it’s time to start decorating and readying for Halloween.
Down here the trees drop their leaves whenever they damn well feel like it. The Bottlebrush tree drops its leaves and blooms ALL THE TIME…ALL OVER THE DRIVEWAY! But I digress…..
Down here if it wasn’t for the grocery stores putting out gargantuan sized bags of candy I’d never know it’s time to stock up for trick or treaters.
I was never a big mall shopper, so Christmas also sneaks up on me. I don’t see all the decorations in the stores because I don’t GO to the stores.
There are subtle changes of season down here. And the longer I live here the more attuned I become to them. But it’s still not the same.
Now I’ve lost my last bastion of ever knowing.
Since Husband’s retirement I have no idea what day of the week it is. Weekday? Weekend? They all blend together.
Not that it really matters.
But it’s totally weird.