Weather Tis Nobler In The Mind To Suffer

Alright, so Summer has slammed Toronto like a Blue Jays winning streak. With weather warnings for extreme heat and torrential rain. I mean, last week we were in slogging through soggy spring and today its a different kind of soggy all together. It’s a sweating, saturated soggy that slicks your hair to your sticky face. It stinks up and stains armpits. Tis the season we wish for all 8 months of winter long, finally it has arrived in all it’s A/C blaring glory. So, my question is this, when does the complaining stop?

As Canadians we tread the weather gauntlet every year. Cold, colder, warm death, wet, wadding, breezy, gale force and blistering; we get it all. But no matter what we claim we want, we’re never happy. Well, that’s not fair to weather. Weather doesn’t know the difference between good and bad. It’s not a people pleaser…except for the first week of warmth that exposes all the skin that’s been so long nestled under multiple comforting layers. The order of the seasons never changes. The only variable is the severity. But every dang year its the same thing: Longing for the glorified summer heat while staring out over blowing snow drifts. And when the sunny summer weather finally does make it’s appearance, we’re burnt by its audacity to really heat things up. Like an Ex-boyfriend, one who’s been gone long enough to forget just how much of a dink he was. Even he doesn’t deserve the complaints we launch against weather.

Weather has become the catch-all for bad days; blaming humidity for fluffy hair. The rain becoming a social barometer, leaving puddles of unbroken pressures. Cloudy days depleting our Vitamin D reserves, evaporating our happiness into dark rain filled puffs. Humidity raising temperaments of those already hot under the collar. The toughest part about weather complaints is that, no matter what is really bothering us, we can’t change the weather. It’s gonna thunder through ’til it’s gotten everything out of its system. The only gloomy cloud you can chase away is the one hanging over your own head. And the only heat wave we have the power to break is in your mind. Rain, shine, winter, spring, summer or fall, all you have to do is call, and I’ll be there; you’ve got a friend…who will remind you the sun will come out tomorrow.

Weather Tis Nobler In The Mind To Suffer

OCDoes Spring Cleaning

Yesterday, I woke up with a burning desire. A yearning I have not felt for many dark winter months. A feeling I can only describe as Spring Fever. Not unlike other fevers this one spikes and sparks hallucinations. I was having delusions of surprise home visits. Stricken with the fear that people might actually think I live the way I have been keeping house; I launched into a full frontal assault. Though the attacks were not simply frontal, they were side-al and underneath-al and from the back. Moving furniture, decluttering shelves, scouring the baseboards. I was going to prove to myself and any surprise visitors in which level of cleanliness I dwell. I am going to fulfill my Cleaneeds.

So it began. It started the way weekly cleaning does. The bathroom sanitation. The kitchen organization. Then it exploded like a smothered spring blossom. I cleaned so much I washed the vacuum. I washed the scissors. I scrubbed the baseboards. I Magic erased all the wall dings and marks. Every grate, grill and trap was scoured. I was merciless. Digging, picking out and yanking. Making factory fresh each piece of well loved bric a brac.

The dog reacts the same way every time the vacuum starts. By chasing the cat until she hides under the bed. Jilly whines in what I can only assume is terror at the idea of us whisking away their fur babies. Then she hides out in the 1st clean room to stress chew her antler. It would stress me out too if my momma and daddy were sweeping up my fur mess. For all I know, she might think of it as the feathers in her nest or as tiny parts of herself, that we’re just throwing away. But maybe that’s just my rationalization of her irrational vacuum reaction. So, I took a deep breath and gave them a pep talk. After grandstanding to the beasts, I realized I may be the reason they react this way…It’s not nature, I have nurtured them into hating cleaning as much as I do.

Since vowing to cut down on unnecessary purchases, I haven’t bought anything, and it’s starting to show. I am down to zeros on the things I use, but carry the dead weight of the things I don’t. I have no more swifter pads but a billion wet jet pads, that I will never use. I have to hold the glass cleaner at a certain angle for the spray nozzle to reach the helpful blue liquid. And having only the liquid bleach detergent left all my dark jeans have been going without. It has taken costly measures.

After stirring up all these hair, dust and emotions. I realized that I required self medication. So, I took an allergy pill. When I start putting my broken army of cleaning weapons away or I ask Hubby to put something on a fake list he isn’t making, I know this time is quickly coming to an end. To positively reinforce my OCDoes, I decided to reward myself with a new magic eraser for next time’s clean. Did I accomplish any of my life long dreams today? No. But I did A full days work. It just happened to be the maid’s work. So feel free to drop in surprise visitors, we’re expecting you!

But the big question is: is it safe to put my winter coat in storage?

OCDoes Spring Cleaning

Dear Weather

Dear Weather,
I know you’ve been getting a lot of flack lately for your inconsistent behaviour. You’re up, down and now this?!? Sleet and feels like -2? Aw geez, by now you should know better. Even hearty Canadians need a sunny break or two. And though I’ve never been a fan of ganging up, being rabble roused or whipped into a frenzy; I will join this angry mob in their chorus of WTF Weather!

I didn’t blame you for the Groundhog’s faulty prediction. Because I know we shouldn’t trust an animal that lives underground. I stayed optimistic through the whole grey month of March. Crossing my fingers for a brighter April. I’ve even tried to praise your yucky rainy days, repeating the adage: April showers bring May flowers, over and over and over again. Until all the words have lost their meaning. I had locked my winter coat away, to then have to layer myself into a marshmallow woman. Wrapped in so much fabric I waddle.

I want to wear sundresses! I want to get a sunburn, not a bad one. But a little one. I want to have picnics in the park and drinks on the patio. I want to stay out late in the extended hours of sunshine. My toes have been locked inside boots since October, they’re dying to breathe again. I want spring dangit! Pretty please!?!

Now, I know I said I love Toronto because we celebrate all four seasons. But winter? She’s a passed*said with an Italian accent. Why an Italian accent? Well, because it’s the most emphatic! Just ask anyone’s Nonna. Anyway, Weather, you’ve always been a willing accomplice, so why not now. Stop torturing us! And I promise we’ll try harder with the whole ‘heal the world’ thing MJ started so long ago. Deal?

Warmly,
Melicious

Dear Weather

The Starving Artist: Chapter 28: Seeking New Stress Mechanism

At Glory Hole Doughnuts enjoying Lemon Meringue
At Glory Hole Doughnuts enjoying Lemon Meringue

At my house, we’re stress eaters. At all my houses, really. We eat when we’re happy. We eat more when we’re sad. Late night snacking; a constant problem. Cereal for 2nd dinner. If it’s in the house it’s going into my mouth. This week’s stress of losing someone special has driven me to empty the fridge, the cupboards and pester the local takeout joints. A stress-eating is a zero benefit side-effect causing my total health train derailment. In the last week I have been avoiding mirrors. Wearing joggers and moping about with a plate or napkinful or tinfoil swan in hand at all times. It was mid-sugar coma that it hit me. Stress is the energy so many folks run on; maybe I could alter my pre-disposition to gorge the pain. We have the technology, we can rebuild me.

Now, if this scheme was to work, I was going to have to plan. What could benefit from the energy that my stress could generate? Well, let’s see, there’s the not so new-oh so untidy house, the cabin fever-ridden dog, the high-flying-skycloud shooting husband, the neglected book, the blog, the ever shedding cat, the storage unit…let’s just say there’s no lack of things that could use a little energy boost. But let’s also agree that a stress case is not the ideal candidate for most jobs. Temporarily sane me finally decided: The best fit for a basket-case is mindless, repetition, keeping my idle hands busy. Logically and with renewed scientific fervour, I picked up a cloth and cleanser. Laundering all the cross-over season clothes. Scouring the entire bathroom, including baseboards and cupboard shelves. Stripping the bed, dusting the ceiling fixtures. High and low, no bunny was safe at our house this Easter weekend. Eventually, though it had to end, and with 940 sq ft, it didn’t take too long. Then, Stress and I found ourselves face to face again. The Pirate cookies “yar-haring” my name from the junk cupboard.

With a clean house I turned to the sofa where the Hubby and the hound were tangled up in blankets.

Me: “Okay, the sun is shining. The world is calling…” As I flung open the blackout curtains.

Hubby: “But look at her, she’s found a sunspot.” Pointing to the dog splayed out with sunshine lighting up her underbelly.

Me: “I bet we can find a bigger sunspot out there. Spring has sprung.”

So, my Hubby left the cloud city he was defending and took his ladies for a walk about. We walked to the park, to play monkey in the middle, cuz Jilly only wants the ball when she can’t have it. This is my first real exercise since Blister-gate March 2013. Stretching and throwing and chasing that little Stinker, all over that muddy school yard. I finally started feeling less stressed. Like the sunshine had squeegeed the darkness, feeling better and brighter. Smiling…actually smiling. I could almost hear the song my happy heart sings. Then I went home and finished a bag of mini Reece’s peanut butter cups. Well, the good news is I didn’t do it because I was stressed…right?!? That’s still progress right?

The Starving Artist: Chapter 28: Seeking New Stress Mechanism

Poetry Slam Fri-Yay!

Goodbye February; dark and blah
Can’t say I’m sad to see you go
Cuz March is here, time for sunshine cheer
And soon beers on a patio

Oh my early spring time warning
with daylight way past four
It’s strange to think winter’s almost over
but now I see I’ve missed you even more

Oh how, I’ve missed your sunscreen,
smells of coconuts and beach
I’ve missed out on exploration
Oh Springtime I beseech.

Remind me of those sunny days
On blankets in the park
With cherry blossoms all around
Long evenings without dark

I’ve been curled up on the couch
wrapped in blankets, tied up tight
I hibernated all winter long
Against the wind I could not fight

This winter weather has been hit or miss
With little for complaints
So why am I so dang excited
to be free of it’s constraints?

Oh wait, I know, I’ve found the truth
My summer hair and smiling youth.
I’ve missed them both so very much
So, Miss March you’re like vermouth
In my happy spring martini
I love every little teeny weeny
Sprig of sunshine bursting through
And I will drink to that, so here’s to you!

Poetry Slam Fri-Yay!