Who opened the door to Canada?
Why am I surprised by this every year?
One day I'm in shorts and a t-shirt and sweating, and the next day I'm in jeans and a sweatshirt and shivering. There never seems to be an in-between. All of a sudden we hit winter.
I'm not complaining, mind you. My body's just in shock. I can't possibly complain, because the same cold front that has me shivering a bit steered Wilma far away from me and sent it flying across Florida at a speed that while it didn't negate the damage, minimized it. So I'll shiver a bit rather than deal with power outages and storm damage.
I'm also fully aware that my idea of winter is drastically different from other people's idea of winter. At one time when I was very young, I lived in the upper peninsula of Michigan, learned to ski and walked the snow drift onto our second floor roof. In Pennsylvania, my parents live 15 minutes from a ski hill. I, however, haven't lived in that weather for 20+ years, and now when it hits the 40's, it's cold! I'm John, and I am a weather wimp. (Hi, John!) If I'm putting on a sweatshirt and jacket, that means winter. I'm not a huge fan of cold. If I was, I wouldn't have moved my weather wimp ass from Pennsylvania to Florida. Well, that's not entirely true. The Navy made that move a necessity, but it was I who made the decision to give it more permanency. It was I who decided I'd never own a shovel with a flat bottom. It was I who decided if I want to see snow and feel cold, I can venture north over the holidays and get my fill and every time I do, the decision to move south gets more validation. True, with every hurricane it gets less, but everyone picks their poison.
I want the comfy weather in between the extremes. The 72° days with shorts and t-shirts that aren't too hot and not too cool, and I know they're coming. We'll get some of those now. This was just a rude awakening to cold. It can go away now and not show up again till January.
One day I'm in shorts and a t-shirt and sweating, and the next day I'm in jeans and a sweatshirt and shivering. There never seems to be an in-between. All of a sudden we hit winter.
I'm not complaining, mind you. My body's just in shock. I can't possibly complain, because the same cold front that has me shivering a bit steered Wilma far away from me and sent it flying across Florida at a speed that while it didn't negate the damage, minimized it. So I'll shiver a bit rather than deal with power outages and storm damage.
I'm also fully aware that my idea of winter is drastically different from other people's idea of winter. At one time when I was very young, I lived in the upper peninsula of Michigan, learned to ski and walked the snow drift onto our second floor roof. In Pennsylvania, my parents live 15 minutes from a ski hill. I, however, haven't lived in that weather for 20+ years, and now when it hits the 40's, it's cold! I'm John, and I am a weather wimp. (Hi, John!) If I'm putting on a sweatshirt and jacket, that means winter. I'm not a huge fan of cold. If I was, I wouldn't have moved my weather wimp ass from Pennsylvania to Florida. Well, that's not entirely true. The Navy made that move a necessity, but it was I who made the decision to give it more permanency. It was I who decided I'd never own a shovel with a flat bottom. It was I who decided if I want to see snow and feel cold, I can venture north over the holidays and get my fill and every time I do, the decision to move south gets more validation. True, with every hurricane it gets less, but everyone picks their poison.
I want the comfy weather in between the extremes. The 72° days with shorts and t-shirts that aren't too hot and not too cool, and I know they're coming. We'll get some of those now. This was just a rude awakening to cold. It can go away now and not show up again till January.
John put this out here at 9:01 AM
3 Comments:
I'm in shock too! The temp dropped 20 degrees in one day. I've got my jacket handy.
What? 72 degrees? Are you talking celcius? Wouldn't that make you a deep fried John?
Nah. I'm part of stubborn America with it's metric phobia. In celcius, I guess 22 would be good, but waking up in the single digit celcius numbers is not my idea of October.
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