This FOG is Driving Me Crazy!

Fog at the beach is one place I enjoy it.

It has been foggy for a million days. Give or take.

Seriously. After a month or two, foggy gray damp cold icy slick days ooze over onto each other and no one can keep track.

"Blah, blah, it will be foggy, blah blah blah, and slick. Blah blah blah, with a fog advisory alert blah blah blah," says Every. Single. Weather. Person.

I love gray. On the walls in my bathroom. Or at the beach (Washington beaches have tons of gray sand). Or on old, weathered wood. Even in my hair, though I prefer to call gray hair silver or twinkles.

But the sky? Occasionally. Yes. For the entire winter season? Uhm, no.

Gray skies, gray trees, gray mists, gray roads, gray cars, gray everything. Even gray people when I am out walking. Until they get close up, that is.

I am ready for snow. Or sunshine. Or rain. Or wind. Especially wind! Yes. Wind will blow out the fog.


Lord, I don't mean to complain. Sorry about that. I would just love snow. Lots of snow with blindingly blue bright skies after the snowfall. Especially in the mountains where we need the snowpack to be built up. Especially in the valleys that have been socked in for what feels like forever with icy cold fog. Please shower down snow in this northwest state that will soon be desperate for water. Fill our reservoirs and lakes and water tables. Let it be known that You are in charge of the weather and hear our requests. My request. Thank You for the fog. For it makes it feel like winter. Thank You for the weather and precipitation we receive for our farms and homes and parks and rivers and lakes. You are in charge of the cycles and seasons. For this we, I, give You praise. And thanks. Always thanks. Love, from the foggy-eyed lady with twinkles in her hair.

Angie Quantrell is wearing shades of gray. No, not that book. But literal glasses that see gray everywhere she looks. Patience and getting out into the gray is the key to staying sane. Right?