You know his law: anything that can go wrong will go wrong. That isn’t always bad – when someone comes up with a brilliant idea and everyone enthuses over it, I’m the one who says, “Yes, but. . . .” That can actually be a good thing. I blame Murphy for my negativity and pessimism – why be optimistic when Murphy’s waiting in the wings, ready to leap out and spoil my mood?
Last night, while walking the Scotties, Muphy hovered at my shoulder when we ran into a skunk. Coincidently, I was thinking to myself, “I hope we don’t run into the skunk I’ve smelled around here this past week.” Luckily I saw the little blighter before the Scotties did. Ha – you didn’t get me that time, Murphy!
But back to my negative attitude: I searched the mountainside for signs of approaching fall as we walked. It comes early up here. When the valley below is still blooming with flowers, lawns are verdantly green and people spend the afternoon tanning, up here the trees are beginning to turn color and there is a nip in the air come evening. I thought of the coming winter and all I dreaded: the perilous roads which the snow narrows down to the width of one lane, ice forming on the inside of the living room window, shoveling and blowing and plowing the driveway.
Anyone who knows me knows I loathe chill of winter, and neither am I fond of the high heat of summer. They’ve given up on pointing out I have a no-win attitude; now they just roll their eyes and ignore me.
But a friend of mine gave me a good lecture on my attitude, so I decided I will be positive this year! And to prove it, I’ve made a list of the good things about both winter and summer in the mountains:
It’s not freezing cold.
I don’t have to spend hours shoveling the deck and blowing/plowing the driveway.
The Scotties don’t return from their walks pasted with sand, salt and sludge from the roads.
I don’t have to drive 20 miles on a slick road through a blizzard to get to work.
I don’t have to constantly refill the bird feeders.
I don’t have to wear three layers to clothing and a blanket while working in my home office.
Our tiny market is not crowded with skiers.
It’s not baking hot.
I don’t have to spend hours pulling weeds and watering the garden.
The Scotties don’t return from their walks thick with dust.
I don’t have to drive 20 miles inside an oven with the sun dazzling my eyes to get to work.
I don’t have to chase raccoons away from the bird feeders.
I don’t pour a river of sweat while working in my home office.
Our tiny market is not crowded with hikers, bikers, canoers, etc.
Hm. There are a lot of “don’ts” up there. Somehow, I don’t think positiveness should work that way. Where am I going wrong? Let’s try again:
Grilling just about everything that can cook on a barbecue.
Long, lazy hours relaxing on the deck, watching the birds and butterflies.
Evenings unsullied by street lights and traffic noise.
Visitors from overseas.
Picnics, street festivals, fireworks and fetes.
Fresh raspberry shakes from Chris’ Cafe.
Using the oven and not overheating the kitchen.
Watching the skiers fall over on the slopes across from my house. Hee hee.
The magic of snowflakes falling from the sky.
Hot chocolate from the Mad Moose.
Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas.
There. I feel much better now. Back atcha, Murphy!