If all were to go swimmingly…

Sometimes when I’m hot, I just sit and dream about the upcoming Dutch winter…

Riding my bike, the rain piercing through my sweater, soaking me.  My hair is wet, my jeans are wet, my socks are even a little wet.  My hair is so wet that even once I’m off my bike and walking inside, it’s dripping down onto my shoulders.  The wind is wild and whipping around me, and I’m just…

Chilly.  Ahh… What a nice feeling.

Sometimes, I try to use a Minnesota winter, but it just does not work in the same way.  The snow and wind chill just don’t translate.  It’s almost as if my bodily imagination cannot swing that far.  It can do Minnesota to Holland, and it can do Holland to Indonesia, even Minnesota to Mexico is possible- But Minnesota to Indonesia, just too much.