Santa is in the house and the oaks are wrapped in red and white Christmas lights. The trees in our yard have been dropping leaves like crazy lately, which is usually a sign that we're down for the count, temp-wise. And yet we're a week into December and I STILL have a pair of shorts and flip flops in my closet for those "just in case" days when the Fahrenheit hits the 80s. This time of year in Texas, we're bouncing back and forth with running the AC and heat.
As a kid, I can recall riding a brand new bike Santa brought me on Dec 25 in a tank top and shorts. And I guess when I was a kid, I didn't mind the warmer temps. Now that I'm in the midst of menopausal hot flashes, I'd love for the daily high to stay in the 60s. I want it to feel like the Christmas season so I can wear the red sweaters hanging in my wardrobe. The gray and white snowflake patterned turtleneck with coordinating down filled vest. And all of my fun boots. I'm tired of having to make an effort to keep my feet presentable enough for public display.
That house in the mountains for our retirement is looking more and more attractive these days. I'm beginning to think I have all the makings of a good snow bird. Texas will always have my heart, but I'd love to spend about half of the year where I don't break a sweat just thinking about stepping outside.
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