We are well into January with nary a snowflake on the horizon.  Most of my fellow Iowans are relishing these 50 degree (and even a few 60s) degree temperatures, while I dream of winter.

Hardy winter.  Like a stockpiling-groceries, canceling-school-for-a-week, freezing-my-socks-off-blizzard.  

Bring it on.

Those are the days I relish.  Hot coffee in hand and nowhere to be but home, amid the aromas of a simmering crock pot full of a winter stew and yeast rolls in the oven. 

Yesterday, we spent the better part of the day outside.  Coatless.  The grass is greening and I even saw fresh clover poking out of the ground.  The farmers are working their Iowa fields.  This is not normal.  Seriously???  (I have a cousin who says her spring flowers are starting to come up…) 

I long for winter.

I appreciate every season in it’s own time, although I really do love the colder months.  For who can truly savor the rebirth of a budding spring without a good hard freeze?  

I’m sipping coffee from my adorable snowman mug, watching the window and dreaming of white.

And for all my friends who disagree, a song for you: 

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