After pretending to like the Seattle area for the past couple of years, I can now come out. I can come out, because, we're leaving. Packin' it up. Haulin' out. Hitchin' the Wagons back up. We're moving to Colorado.
So I am free now to say I don't like it. It's not that there's anything bad about it. I can see why lots and lots and lots of people do like it. I just don't. I like the rain. What I didn't realize is, get this, I miss, the COLD. I need four seasons. I can't do with just three. spring and fall being one, a long rainy winter that meshes with rainy springs and rainy falls, and a few weeks of blistering heat in the summer. I miss snow. I miss crisper falls. I want more foliage. I want to see my breath more than one month out of the year. No, this doesn't mean you should ship me off to Wisconsin, though I've been there and it's really pretty and where we discovered our love of log cabin homes, and I've already been to North Dakota, and I liked North Dakota, so that should tell you something. And I'm sorry, I am too lazy to 'just drive an hour to the snow' I want it to land on my porch.
I'm a cozy, cuddly, sweaters and long tees kinda gal. I want slippers. I love L.L. Bean clothing. It never really gets cold here. I can't justify shearling slippers and thermals. Seattle is great, unless you're the type who likes to be cold and miserable, which I am. It's not Seattle, it's me. Seriously. I've lived in places where I've clicked, and places where I haven't. I haven't clicked here. I clicked with Virginia, though honestly it could do with a bit more snow. I clicked with England. I clicked with North Dakota even. Okay I may not have clicked with North Dakota, but we had a blast while it lasted. Like, you know, one of those things that happened and you really enjoyed it but you knew it couldn't last... and yes, I left a friend up there, and she thinks North Dakota is a bastard, so you know I'm right...
Anyhow, I was sure we'd get on, Seattle and me. Shoot, on paper we do. Rain. Love rain. Gardens. Love gardens. Ports. Love ports. Coffee. Runs through my veins. So you see, it seemed right. I'm still not entirely sure what went wrong. It just wasn't meant to be. It's just one of those things. No matter how badly you wanted it to work, it just never could. And that's what happened. So I would recommend Seattle, to others, you know, becuase we can still be friends. It's not like Massachusetts, you know. Some relationships just can never be worked out.
Now there are things I will miss about this area. Good things. Like the fact that I live in the Starbucks Nexus. Never have I ever been in want of a cup of coffee. The amazing community programs the town I live in has. The really nice teachers at my kid's school. The curb appeal of most homes, because of the state law which requires all Northwesterners to be garden fanatics. Things like that.
But there are things my husband and I have realized about ourselves, when we sat down when all the shittola hit the fannola and the crappolla started. We hate his commute. We, it turns out, actually like each other, so his hour long commute in the morning and evening makes us miserable. He comes home, eats, watches the Daily Show and that's it for the night folks. The kids don't see him as much and there's no way he can ever make Drama's gymnastics or any of the games the boys would eventually play in. The inaffordability of housing makes living close to his work not possible. The other thing we learned, he likes to be cold and miserable too. He misses snow, and can't wait to snowblow his first driveway. He enjoyed snowblowing our driveway in North Dakota, but I think it was the novelty really. Of course, when we do have a new driveway to snowblow, we can do a 'how many snowstorms til he's sick of it' kinda poll. So it's off to cozy snow land for us, land of Blizzards and Broncos. Now, I'm not like, a big fan of blizzards, I don't think, oooh a blizzard, I want to go there, I'm just saying, I like weather.
So here's what I'm looking forward to. White Christmases. I grew up with them, and I think when you, as a child, have White Christmases, the lack of them makes you just a little sad. Seeing my breath on the air. Crisp, cold air hitting my face. Warm fires to cuddle by. A legitimate reason to wear bulky sweaters, effectively camoflauging the winter pounds. The joy of watching my children the eve of every snowfall, giddily hoping for school cancellations. The exuberance when the cold ice and snow starts to melt and while it's still cold, you can smell spring in the air, on that first warm wind in March, followed by the shocking snowstorm April 2nd (though that may just be a New England thing). Summers that last just long enough to be missed, and springs that burst from cold, hard ground into beautiful early blooms.
Anyone wanna buy a house in the Seattle area?
I do not expect people from warmer climates to understand this desire to be cold and miserable, or the longing for white Christmases. Just like I can't understand the desire to live somewhere with sweltering humidity, like Georgia, where my little brother lives, and will probably never leave. I also don't expect people who live in Seattle to understand why we couldn't just be.