Today has to be the most beautiful day I've seen in probably a year, at least since we moved back to Houston in January last year. It's crystal clear, slightly breezy, a perfect 62 degrees, and I can hear birds singing from down near the bayou.
My husband sits near me, listening to his TV god broadcasting the post-election events. I don't mind catching up on the goings on in the world now again, but this man bleeds red, white and blue. The television gets more conversation out of him than I do.
The kids are out enjoying the day; Becky's walking her miniature pinscher, "Max" and Jeffrey is in his room playing his new video game. I can't tell you which one it is; he goes through them faster than I can keep up with them. He's been playing video games since he was two, when he learned to use his sisters' NES. Don't get the wrong impression. He does enjoy playing his games, but also gets outside and rides bikes with this buddies, plays B-ball, gets great grades in school, and excels in science and math, but boy does he enjoy a good video game now and again.
And I'm sitting here jotting down my thoughts and feelings today. I'm glad it's so beautiful out. I think I'm a fair-weather person. Aren't these the kinds of people who are happy when it's sun-shiney and perfect outside, and miserable and gloomy when it's rainy and muggy? Well, that's me. So, that would make me a downer to be around most of the summer, right? Okay, so I'm exaggerating a bit. Although I do have to admit, I far more enjoy the spring and fall months. I am starting to warm up to winter this year, too. When I lived in the Midwest, Ohio, and was trapped for six months at a time by snow and freezing temperatures, I learned to detest winter. It's not so bad, for instance, in California when I could go to the mountains and "visit" the snow, frolick for a couple hours, then return home to the warmth of my valley home. Snow was a novelty. It became a fierce reality when I moved to Ohio.
My first experience with real live snow, falling or otherwise, was having to drive in the stuff. Having spent my entire life up to that point in the San BernardinoValley of California and the very warm Gulf of Mexico at Houston, I had never experienced snow, except when I went to Lake Arrowhead to shop and "see the snow." Even then the roads had been cleared of any danger of sliding. Not so in Ohio. Did you know that if you put on your brakes too hard and are going to fast when approaching a stop sign, that your car will slide and will not turn in the direction you turn your steering wheel? I'm here to tell you this is a fact. Fortunately, my truck slowed to a stop before I ran into the yard and mailbox toward which I was sliding. And thank the good Lord there were no other cars around me! From then on I've had a very strong respect for snow-slicked roads. We lived in a predominantly geriatric community (I felt like a teenager!) where everyone, and I mean EVERYONE drives 10-20 mph below the posted speed limit. I learned to do this! Partly due to the snow, but more out of being forced to be patient. Local authorities don't look too kindly on people who barrel past slow-moving Q-Tips driving their Lincoln Towncars down one-lane streets. (I mean no disrespect to the Golden Generation. I know I'll be wearing their soft-soled shoes one day soon, myself.)
Okay, I've been informed I have to stop and sign off. My son needs to use my computer to look up cheat codes for his new game. Cheat codes? I've asked him. He tells me the codes are programmed into the games to be used. Who can argue with this logic? And my husband suddenly got a hankering for a banana split from Baskin Robbins. Who can argue with that?