Not a fan of winter

I like warm weather and everything it brings – green grass, trees with full growth of leaves, luxuriating in shade, cotton ball clouds in a Texas blue sky.

I do not like cold weather. Cold weather means I get cold. I do not like being cold, nor do I particularly enjoy what winter brings – leafless trees, dark skeletal arms reaching toward the sky, dead grass.

My dislike of cold weather comes from being cold every winter growing up. The house my family lived in from 1955 until 1967 was cold in the winter. I don’t mean a little winter chill; I mean cold. I lived in the house until 1964, when I enlisted in the Army. Army life often was cold, but not like living in a house that had two heaters, one in the living room and one in the bathroom. Army life was cold when I walked guard on winter nights in Korea, accompanied by Duke, a German Shepherd sentry dog.

Army life was not cold like shutting doors in every room during the winter so the living room and the bathroom could keep heat. Army life was not cold like getting undressed after getting in bed and covering up and then getting dressed in school clothes next morning under the covers.

When the Army sends a soldier into cold weather, it sends a properly clothed soldier. Way back when, that meant long underwear, wool; olive green wool trousers and shirt; wool socks; a parka with hood and liner; mittens with liner; a pile cap with ear flaps that could be tied beneath the chin; Mickey Mouse boots that kept feet so warm they sweated if you stood still too long.

Given a choice, I would prefer Army cold to civilian cold.

Now, of course, I don’t have to make a choice. I live in Florida. Every day when I look outside, I see green.

I would like those high of 60-something days would go away and the 80-degree days would return.

I like warm days.