I’ve come to terms with life being a bit breezy way out here in the ‘burbs on the wind-swept plains.
Really, I have not. Really.
HOWEVER.
The wind along the front range of my beloved Colorful Colorado of late has been obscene.
Like “expect to see cows and Auntie Em fly by when I look out of the blinds, wondering if there is a witch left in Oz for the house to land on” windy.
“Drove Mega Coon from his winter slumber two nights ago, sending him in to the corner of my raised garden bed where he stood on his hind legs SCREAMING at Mother Nature for a good 10 minutes” windy (seriously, he is big, he is pissed off, and HOLY CRAP does he hate the wind!)
“Forced to set down coffee and drive with both hands so I didn’t accidentally change lanes while piloting Frederico Escapé to the office” windy.
Seriously effing windy.
So I sat in the car in the office parking lot this morning, watching the dirt and tumbleweeds and assorted debris blowing around, thinking about how stupid I was to have worn a dress with a full, billowy skirt today, and pouting for a good 20 minutes. Then I made the least graceful entrance in the history of mankind, loaded down like a pack mule with all my stuff, hair blowing like I was on the deck of an aircraft carrier, one hand holding a wad of extra material from my skirt tight up against my legs, the other clutching my precious coffee as I shuffled down the row of cars and erupted in a gale into the main door.
Hot stuff.
Here is the thing about wind. Take anything, even the best thing ever, and add wind. Said thing is instantly made much worse, if not totally ruined.
Beautiful day at the beach? Niiiiice. Add wind and it’s just a painful sand shard shower that knocks over your umbrella drink.
Crisp, clear fall afternoon? So refreshing. But plus wind? Caked with groddy leaf mulch and chilled in spite of the sun.
Gentle accumulating snow outside your window? Oh so very pretty. Until wind blows its stupid self in and BOOM, nasty-ass blizzard knocking out power to your Hot Toddy and Movie viewing snow day and creating toilet paper and bread hording situations at the Kroger, yo.
Andplusalso, wind makes me people cranky as hell. No one is happy with jacked up hair and God-knows-what blown into their eyes. Even Binky-the-wonder-dog is uber-ticked about having to go wizz in the wind. (Careful where you are standing in that situation, BTW. Just sayin’.) Getting Jr from the car to the door of daycare requires tether-ropes and sandbags at this point – a gust caught his hood yesterday afternoon and I thought we were going to be on the news: “boy achieves solo flight via dinosaur hoodie – last seen over Ft Collins, film at 10.”
I loathe the wind with a passionate and boundless hate. With a hate that gives me energy like a cup of coffee, but with a side of rage.
Hate. It.
Please go away wind. All your blowing totally sucks.
Reluctantly Suburban 