Under the weather

Ok, so 9 weeks in Costa Rica is enough to spoil anyone. In the dry season (Dec-May) the weather is like this: high 80s--low 90s, bright sun. Every day. Every single one. Once in a while, and atypically for the season, thunder would rumble down from the mountains and rain would fall. Hard. Loud. And for an hour, maybe, at most. Then the sun would come back out, the birds and insects would take up their noise, and everything would go gloriously back to sun and warmth and blossom.

So I suppose I shouldn't complain, having had that. But of course a complaint is coming, is just bubbling out of these words, ready to rise, isn't it? Yes.

Yesterday went to Lyndale Garden Shop with my "spend 30 dollars and get 5 free perennials" coupon. I was wearing jeans, warm socks, a long-sleeved shirt, a sweater, and a jacket. I knew it was raining but believed the weather man more than my own sense, and so I thought it would be warmer. When I got there and shuffled through all the annuals and then perennials and tried to decide, I realized I was getting colder and colder. My nose began to run. My fingers ached. The free perennials were of atrocious quality, but I kept right on buying. By the time I checked out, having spent $64 to get $9.50 of free, and not too healthy, plants, I was shivering. All this wouldn't be such a sad story except that it was May 16th.

Today the sky is again cloudy. Rain has fallen and will again fall. We might hit 65, the experts say, experts who've been much too optimistic in their predictions. And really, they plead, warmer weather is coming. It is. Their tone becomes plaintive and a little self-pitying: don't blame us! it's not our fault! In the paper this morning the weatherguy went as far as to say that he has a birthday coming up and would like warm weather for it. Well, yeah. I'd just like warm weather for the sake of NOT BEING COLD.

In honor of the weather, then, I've decided to take on a terrifying and dangerous task: cleaning out the closet by Emily's bedroom. It's a sort of crawlspace/closet and the only dry place in the house to store things. Over the past few years, our storage method has deteriorated to tossing things in and quickly closing the door. Organization is not my strong suit. Neither is making decisions to throw out the kids' notebooks from 3rd grade. Or to give away their beat-up plastic horse collection. Or stuffed animals. Or the 15 year old suitcase with a big rip in the side. But sometimes you've just got to rise up to the occasion. Today is my day. Wish me luck.