As native Californians, my family often despair over the brain damage they believe I must have suffered. "What, besides a tumor or amnesia, would compel you to CHOOSE to live in Ohio?" they ask. As if being a buckeye is a BAD thing! They usually sight the weather as the reason for despising any state in the midwest. "It's so cold and gray there." They say.
To which I answer: Yes, it sometimes is. But in the course of a year, (sometimes a month or even a week) it can also be warm, breezy, hot, humid, dry, crisp, sunny, misty, foggy- the sky can be gray, white, yellow, baby blue, navy blue or my favorite blue, purple and fuschia fading up to yellow.
This week is a perfect example. On Monday it was nearly summer, in the 70's, I wore my flip-flops to work. On Tuesday, I had to add a sweater, switched back to my sneakers and took an umbrella to work. Today, it was my wool coat, over a sweater, boots and mittens. As someone who doesn't use drugs or even much alcohol, I have to get my rushes where I can. There are other reasons I appreciate this lovely state, not the least of which is that people come in every shape, size and color. I like that there is no set standard for beauty in Ohio, especially since I am a woman most often described as "solid" or "sturdy".
I love it here. I also love concerts on the lawn, huge dangly earrings and James Frey's book even if he is an egomaniacal liar (from Ohio by the way).