P.S. I love you

Here is the blog post I was too tired to post last night.

Today was really cold. This morning, the temperature outside registered at 25 degrees. 25!! Good grief! That is the LOWEST it has gotten since our move here to Oregon last May. I could just hear a friend of mine now: "Where the heck are ya, Alaska?" She has actually asked such a question in one of her emails to me before. And she lives in MASSACHUSETTS! This Ice-Ageisque weather has me often remembering a quote from a popular movie, "It's freaking freezing in here, Mr. Bigglesworth."

Later in the day, the temperature managed to move up a little, until it decided to settle in at 42 degrees. Even then, it was cold. The fact that I was wearing a skirt and sandals only made me colder! (Part of my Halloween costume, so I just wore it.) When I sat outside while my daughter played, I tried to get some writing done. Problem was, it's hard to write using pen and paper when your fingers are like icicles. My handwriting too unintelligible for even me to read, I abandoned this attempt and relied on memory instead, putting together scenes and figuring out problem spots to fix until my little girl, herself too chilled to the bone, decided she wanted to go back inside. Finally escaping into the warmth within my home, yet still chilled, I resorted to writing on the computer. It's a bad idea to try to type when your fingers are too numb to even feel the keys. Too many typos. But I had to get some writing done, anyway. I was in the middle of a chapter I was hoping to finish. I was also online as I worked and I shared my anger over my situation with an online friend. His response: "It's so hot hurr." (He lives in Florida.) Grr. Ack! I NEED CALIFORNIA!! I actually typed that right back to him. LOL I miss that California sunshine. I bet it was only 80 degrees in the desert! (Or maybe a nice 95 degrees.)

Not to whine and start going into one of those "I miss home" episodes, but after living in the California desert for 14 years, it's been a little hard for me to get used to living in the Pacific Northwest. I keep thinking about my sisters enjoying the not-so-cold late-Fall weather of the desert. If only I could be there to enjoy it with them. *sigh* I STILL want to move back. I STILL want to get a house in Palm Springs. Heck, I've wanted to live in Palm Springs for YEARS now. (And, yes, I KNOW it has its bad points, but there are some good points, too.) Well, at least now I can live there vicariously: My next novel is set in that very city.

Thinking about living in the desert made me think of my current writing troubles. When I lived in the desert, I wrote like a maniac. I was indeed the prolific writer. Of course, I know you can write from ANYWHERE, really. But it's something about the hot weather that gets my Muse into action, writing nonstop.

Wow. Thinking on THAT, I wonder if weather affects writers in that way. Do some writers work better in hot climates and others in cold climates? I wonder. I only know that living in a hot climate gets me writing. The cold climate just gets me doing everything else.