English Winters

Why did I move here? It’s something I ask myself every year around this time. I used to love the rain when I lived in Maryland. It was rain with a purpose. Thunder, lightening, quick downpours. Very rarely did it stick around for days. In the south of England, winter is a constant mud-filled, cloudy gloom that eventually permeates my mood and motivation. Every year I start letting my mind wander to where I could move to to avoid feeling this, but then spring comes around and things get beautiful again and I forget all about my clouded mind until it rolls in again.

Today started as a beautiful sunny morning, but soon enough the clouds moved in. It’s not raining, so I should be thankful, but my motivation waned and this diary is about all I can muster today.

I miss Maryland’s seasons. Actually, not true, I don’t miss the oppressively hot summers. The other seasons are fantastic there. The snow and the biting cold often comes with the sunshine. I miss those kinds of winters. As a kid, I would be out on my sled or making an igloo or a snowman until my hands were red and numb and I could no longer feel my ass cheeks. My mom would make me come in and strip off and stand in front of the fire until I thawed out. It would make my whole body sting as the feeling returned. I would have a cup of cocoa or soup, change into new clothes while she put the previous in the dryer and I would be out again to repeat the process.

My kids stand and look out over the hills from closed doors and pick up their game controllers, phones, tablets, books, pens or painting gear instead of being able to run free. I am all for creativity, but to have the choice is something I wish I could give them.

Am I willing to start a new life again somewhere else? I feel like as I get older, finding friends and a community gets more and more difficult. Would my children mind being uprooted? I think my youngest would be fine with the move as he’s only 4, but my girl is nearly 13. It’s a difficult age to change things on her.  She is just starting down the path of finding out who she is and establishing friendships.

Will I find myself reading this again next year as I despair about the grim and depressing winters again? Probably. If I can’t find the motivation to do something other than moan, I can’t see myself selling our house, finding new jobs and schools and moving somewhere else. Spring better come soon.