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(I’ve been on a letter kick. I should start sending some of these.)
How are you? I haven’t seen you two together for a while and I was wondering if everything was okay. I understand that it takes a while to get together and make schedules work, but I was wondering if you could figure out a more regular time to meet up. If it’s not too much to ask, if that time could be now.
You see, I’m suffering from the wintertime Blahs.
I live in Montana. People seem to think that if you live in Montana, you must be okay with winter. And, in general, I am. I enjoy cross country and downhill skiing as much as the next person (depending on who the next person is), but this year has been more wintery than most. The snow from before Christmas has never melted. It just keeps getting added to. I may never see my Snowman Blow-Up that got covered in snow December 19th again.
There have been some warmer days. I admit. It hasn’t been 2 months of continual freezing weather. But the warm weather is very intermittent and it has not lasted long enough to truly help. It has only stayed long enough to create fascinating ice and snow patterns on the road so that my alignment has just given up and driving to cross-country and downhill ski areas is best done to the theme song of Raiders of the Lost Ark.
I’ve spent a lot of time home, staring at my dirty floor I refuse to mop because the first person to walk on it will make it look exactly as it does right now. Wool socks are slipping into the dryer and shrinking, causing me to look at Amazon for replacements. And I’m now current on all television programs I enjoy at this time.
Today I forced myself to cross country ski to enjoy some sun and it didn’t help enough. Then I ran three miles to get some endorphins. The clouds suffocated them back to the pituitary gland and they refuse to come back out. (It also may not help that I watch The Man in the High Castle while I run. It keeps me occupied so I mind running a fraction less, but the paranoia it produces doesn’t always end with my cool down.)
When I realized that even the birthday cupcake I ate did not help, I pondered what could get me out of this Blah state I was in.
It came to me.
Now, I realize people in Cornwall don’t actually scythe shirtless anymore. (I actually asked when I was across the pond last year. I was in Ireland, but our guide seemed very knowledgeable. He admitted some may scythe shirtless if they have nice abs, but in general, people are fully clothed and use machines to cut down hay and tall grasses now.) (Insert frowny face.)
I’ve read all the books and I enjoy the plot and I would like to escape into a world that no longer exists while I cook another pot of chili with cornbread. It helps me pass the time quite nicely.
Help me, BBC and Poldark. You’re my only hope.
(Which reminds me. I just finished the Princess Diarist by Carrie Fisher and recommend it.)