Summer, where are you?

No snow day so far. No fun. No making snowmen. No snow angels. No sledding. No hot cocoa. But everything outside reminds me it's winter. The snow that fell as if not wanting to is still sitting there - on the grass, and on the sidewalks. Muddy and ugly on the side of the streets. My sore arms still remind me I had to shovel the end of the driveway. Just the end. The snow chose the right place to sit - the end of the driveway. As if saying, I'm not letting you out until you give me some blood.

The temperatures have been bellow or close to freezing everyday.

Meanwhile in Brazil...

My family enjoys the warmth of the sun and the salty breeze of our beach. My beach. The one I chose to leave behind.

They celebrate the arrival of a new year standing outside, in shorts and spaghetti straps.

I know. I chose this life for me. I just wish the cold didn't have to come with it. I don't belong in a place with cold weather. A kind of weather that makes me shiver for a good quarter of an hour for every 5 minutes I spend outside. A kind of weather that forces me to cover everything I'm so proud to show. A kind of weather that simply tells me heartlessly and coldly that I must rethink my wardrobe.

I tell you what. It's envy. The cold weather has envy of what God gave me. And it does not want me to show it off to the world. So it keeps remind me to cover myself in layers and layers of winter gear.

I tell you what, cold weather. You won't win. I will not end my days here, where you tell me what to wear. And tell me how sore my arms will be from shoveling the snow you bring. Some day I will leave you. Some day I will go back to my place - my beach. Where I can walk in my bikinis all day long, and shower outside anytime I want. Where I can climb my cashew tree and eat mangoes and drink coconut water as much as I want.

Who will be laughing then, envious cold weather? Who will be laughing then?