I’mma be real here for a moment, if I may. Spring in Boston can go on being all cute with its 40 degrees and rain, but when it starts up with the wind, that is where we need to Draw The Line. Wind, other than a light breeze past a summery porch step where you’re drinking a mint julep, is a menace. And it must be stopped.
One time I drew M into a conversation about what kind of personalities different weather conditions probably have.* The consensus? Sunshine is happy (duh), rain is moody (playful one minute and raging the next), and wind is just kind of a biznatch. All up in your grill, needlessly being a life-ruiner with its passive-aggressive stabs: “Oh, you didn’t wear a jacket today?” “I’m not sure I totally love your hair like that.” I’ve looked up the word in the dictionary (b!tch, not wind), and am now informed that it means “one who is shrill and overbearing.” That’s a wind description if I’ve ever heard one.
But I guess it’s not all bad, because crazy wind outside is an excuse to snuggle up inside, make Mudslide cookies (which are vastly improved with the addition of crushed walnuts, by the way) and listen to calm, cuddly music.
(Smash, you’re really going to like this.)
*This is pretty standard fare. Other topics include:”What’s cuter, the cutest puppy or the cutest baby?”