Above: the chickens, a bit damp and bedraggled, but still happy to be outside after a bout of rain.
I'm happiest when the sun is shining, which is why it's lucky I live in Israel. Rain puts me in an almost sleepy mood, almost as if I'm hardly aware of the time passing by. Still, there's a certain magic to rainy days; knowing I don't have to go out, I can concentrate on what needs/can be done inside.
Oh, and it's also cold. It doesn't get cold cold in Israel, you'll point out. But precisely because our winters are so short, it would be a waste to have central heating in the houses, so the when it's cold outside, it's cold inside. I'm currently wearing a thick pair of pants, a denim skirt, two pairs of socks (one of them thick), and two sweaters, one of them knitted for me by Rose the previous winter. And my feet still feel cold. I can hardly wash the dishes if the water hadn't been pre-heated earlier.
In addition, now we've moved Out to the Hills, I've discovered the true meaning of windy. All I had experienced before, I've found out, is a breeze. When you go out to feed the chickens and get blown off course, now, that's windy. When you can't let your kid join you in the yard for fear she'll be picked up by a gust of wind and carried away, that's windy. And if I hadn't known this house has already withstood a couple of windy seasons, I would be worrying myself silly every night, wondering whether I won't wake up in the morning with the roof gone.
If you shovel the snow every morning, go ahead and laugh at me. If you have decent heating and can still feel your toes, count yourself lucky. I, in the meantime, will go and look for another pair of socks.