The rains are gone, flood waters receding, but now temperatures are rising. It's to be in the low 70s this week, which is just so wrong. This morning after walking the boys, I went grocery shopping and realized I was too hot in my favorite flannel shirt. After I got home, made four trips up and down two flights of stairs with the groceries, I was even more hot and sweaty. And okay, edging right into cranky because this is not Winter weather by anyone's definition.
It's almost a matter of principle for me to fight giving up my flannels. These shirts mean the end of scorching Summer heat and the much anticipated arrival of cool days and stormy weather, thick socks and delicious, hearty meals. It's way, way too early to shift my flannels to the back of the closet and bring out the Hawaiians, but I did pull one out this afternoon. I had no choice...it's weirdly warm and even a bit muggy.
Basically there was no Winter this year. We've had the occasional storm, and last week was overly dramatic with the monumental rains and wind, but there's only been two slightly frosty nights and zero snow, ice or any other element that signifies what time of year this is supposed to be. I don't know what this will mean in the coming months when the Gates of Hell have sprung open, belching fire and brimstone, but with the annual rainfall far below normal, all the forests tinder dry and California--right down the road--already struggling with wildfires...well, it's just a disaster waiting to explode, isn't it?
Good times ahead, then...