This is the first post in a series: January Dreaming.
My late Mom always hated January. For many reasons.
The emotional let-down after the excitement of the holidays.
The dreary, gray, chilly days.
The lack of a real identity for this also-ran of months. Nothing big happens. All the other months get the glory.
Mom was a warm weather person, and grumped her way through all her Januaries. I think she kind of enjoyed putting down her least favorite month, and she had a real patter going about it “too cold, too damp, too boring, no spice to it!”. She spent her January days dreaming of warmer good times and letting everyone know about it. I miss that, and her.
That’s Mom above at the beach where I grew up, in Gilchrist, Texas along the Gulf of Mexico. The floppy hat illustrates her personality so well – she definitely marched to her own drummer. So in Mom’s honor, I’m going to do some January Dreaming posts about warmer days. First up will be scenes from a Paris taxi ride in July (my next post – stay tuned).
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