Oh! How I loath where I live . . .

I have lived here, yes, in "Fiji", for 12 years and quite frankly, I still hate it. Oh, I like the towns just fine, and I love the people (my people, to be specific), and frankly I do live in one of the best towns in the state, but if God told me to move ANYWHERE, tomorrow, I would be gone by the end of the week. And not just because it is one of the most liberal states in the union. What makes it worse, is that I have lived in some of the best locals in the Nation.

The best twelve years of my life were spent in a double wide, on 40 acres of A'mon's in California. An hour and a half from the beach, from Pier 39, Monterrey, Big Sur, Carmel. An hour and half from the mountains. Camping ever summer. Skiing ever winter (multiple times).

And then I moved to Colorado for two years. God smiled when he made Colorado. Two feet of snow on Monday, 70 degrees on Saturday, and NO nasty, slimy mud.

And then I lived in Florida for 18 months. Ten minutes from the beach. Snorkeling in the spring. Surfing in the late summer. "Oh, but the summer heat" Ah, but the balmy coastal summer night breezes that refresh a languishing soul.

Then I came back here(sorry I don't have any dripping letters for that word). Where the summers are painfully hot and humid and when it rains, it just gets worse. I have come to loath summer rain storms. I no longer pray "Lord, let it rain" but rather, "Lord, let it rain . . .all week" because then maybe one or two of those days will be endurable. And the winters? Oh, why did you have to ask? The winter rains bring only one thing: muck. I don't say "mud" because that would be an insult to all mud everywhere. One step in our local slime and the mutant soil monster awakes. Inside of five feet you are covered from boot soles to hips in two inches of immobilising, living, devouring clay infused gunk. And later? When it finally decides to get cold enough to snow, like in late December? It doesn't have the decency to fall straight down like civilized snow does, say, out in Colorado, but rather it runs sideways, driven by the gale force winds, screaming in demonic glee with its icy cousins sleet and hail. And only once or twice in twelves years do you get more than an inch of snow. Then it's nice.

But what has set off this stenographical tirade? On Wednesday, the pipes froze. It was 2 degrees. Today? I raked leaves off of the lawn, and sweltered in my hoody.

Now, lest you get the wrong idea, I am not discontent living here. Ah, what a paradox. Home, is after all, where the heart is. And having married a good local girl, almost eight years ago, and at first having had a good job and currently owning a growing business, I have managed to come to a place of endurance of the unbearable local settings.

So. It's all good! Thanks for listening.