In my neighborhood, you’ll see me spending time out in the yard about as frequently as you might see a bear or a fox. It’s newsworthy…but not apocalyptic. When I am in my yard, people come out of their houses and gape at me like a giant hot air balloon containing the “Wizard of Oz” just crash landed on our street.
“Is that Heidi?”
“How long has it been?”
“My God she looks old.”
I can’t help it if I have indoor hobbies: writing, computers, movies, cooking, sewing, reading, and entertaining. If I HAD to—I could do them outside…but:
I HATE Bugs: Remember ‘70s commercial for “OFF” where the guy put his whole arm in an aquarium full of mosquitos and they all landed on him? That’s me from May until the first fall frost. I am afraid of wasps; detest flies or anything else with 6 or more legs. There might be some kind of bug-paranoia PILL I could take….or I could stay indoors.
I no longer worship the SUN: I freckle and burn when exposed to sun. Also, unless I wear a turban, helmet, or some other full-head cover, the sun fries my dyed-hair and gives me a “Lucille Ball meets ‘80s Cindy Lauper” color. That just doesn’t happen in a mall.
Don’t LET me get over-HEATed: You don’t even want to go there.
My husband is outdoorsy. He rather eat every meal at the picnic table, spend every free moment in the woods camping or fishing. From outside our house, he’ll tap on my window like I am an animal in a zoo exhibit he’s trying to make move.
“There!! Did you see that? She just wrinkled her nose and hit the “delete” key.”
This past winter my daughter, Krista, and my husband and I made a big snow lady we named Edna Turnblatt (complete with double-Ds) in our front yard. Rick went in and got his camera:
“Excellent. We need a picture of this snowlady!” I say, posing with Krista:
“No, I want a picture of you outside,” he said, “it doesn’t happen very often.”
There’s a difference between being a hermit and not-liking-to-spend-time outdoors. You’re invited to my living room to discuss it.