Rick and I both grew up in the frozen northeast of the US. His upper NY state childhood was colder than my Bostonian one, but snow, wind, rain marked a good part of each of our growing-up years.
After moving to Texas, he revelled in the often 100° temperatures. Meanwhile, anything over 85° and I'm fantasizing dark winter nights.
Granted, I feel the cold, but with sweaters and heavy socks, electric under sheets, mittens, I'm comfortable not like in the hot weather (over 85°) when I feel a giant vacuum cleaner (hoover to my Brit friends) has sucked my bodily juices from me, and moving even a finger becomes a chore.
Today in Westport, Ireland we woke to about 4°, winds that were about 45K but gusting up to 80, according to the weather.com and rainy, seriously rainy.
Rick took on the persona of the Michelin man with his layers of clothing and bravely took Rooby for her morning walk.
Admittedly, I was still in bed with a cup of tea, a book and guilt.
For tonight's walk, I went with him half out of fairness and half after a day at the computer and I wanted to meet the exuberance of the wind head on, Again he became the Michelin man and we drove to the greenway.
It was wonderful with the wind howling and almost carrying us airborne.
As we got out of the car I said, "Wasn't that wonderful?"
Even in the dark, I could see him staring at me. "You've got to be kidding," he said.
http://lovinglifeineurope.blogspot.fr/2014/12/that-was-fun-she-said.html for Rick's version our fun walk.
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