I complain about living in Southern California, especially in October, when the heat has gotten old a month ago, and you are just longing to wear jeans. Then by this time of the year, the temperature doesn’t know what the heck it wants to do; it will be 60 in the morning, and pushing 90 by noon.
I think spring and fall are my favorite seasons. You don’t have the extremes of winter and summer. It’s March 30th and everything is bright green, as if our backyard has woken from its winters’ nap. The birds are chirping and there is a breeze. Despite all the Claritin I will go through this spring, I guess I am fortunate to live here. Especially when there are still blizzards on the east coast.
Okay, maybe Southern California doesn’t get THIS cold, but it sure feels like it. Courtesy hercampus.com
This post comes with a warning. Readers in certain parts of the country, especially where you get snow and extreme weather, may be disgusted by what I am about to say. Read on at your own risk.
I am always cold. I don’t know why. Maybe because I am always in one position, but right now the thermostat is set at eighty-one and I have goosebumps! I love fall and winter. The crispness, the bright sky, the occasional rain. I love it all. From inside the warm house!
Last night was 49. I had two blankets. One of them being an electric one! In my defense, it wasn’t turned on, but that will come later.
If there is such a thing as reincarnation, please, God, make me come back as a lizard. I could scorch myself on a rock all day. My dream.
Wednesday we leave for Seattle to surprise Kelley for Thanksgiving. Fourties every day we are there. Mom has packed accordingly, but please wish me luck!
From my bedroom I watch this tree through the seasons.
Not the typical evergreen of California, it loses its leaves in winter, and gets baby leaves in spring. By summer they are a bright green, until about late August, when the whole cycle starts again.
Yellow leaves fall down
Crunch when I wheel over them
They litter the yard
Hi everybody! Things for this blog might seem odd for the next couple of weeks. I’m currently enrolled in Writing 201: Poetry. I guess I figure with Halloween coming up, why not conquer an extreme fear…
For the first assignment, I had to write a haiku.
The cool autumn day
feels like fall, though in my state,
I had no idea about what, I just felt like writing today. I guess you can call this a post about nothing. Actually I have a point; it’s just not the most important.
What’s your favorite season? I am a warm-weather person. I love summer. Feeling 95+ temperatures on my skin and looking out my French doors and seeing the backyard full of color is my favorite. I have wonderful summertime memories: Playing in the sprinklers (this was obviously before the drought), riding bikes after dinner, and also after dinner visiting with Mary, the elderly woman across the street. So sweet, but as with lots of old people, she could be cranky. Mary would be puffing on her cigarette, while complaining our very uppity next-door neighbors.
About September, though, I was ready for winter. I had grown sick of my summer wardrobe, but would need it for at least another month. I would look at sweaters and long to wear them. I was tired of hearing the air conditioner click on longed for the dead-skin smell of the heater the first time it’s turned on for the season.
I guess you could me fickle. But I guess I shouldn’t complain. It is currently 9:48 a.m. It is 73 degrees, but there’s supposed to be a high of 92. People in other parts of the country would kill for such weather! I am in the backyard, the sky is bright blue, the plants are full of color, and Maggie is taking a nap in the shade.
No sweater needed this morning!
I guess I shouldn’t complain about my wardrobe—maybe sweaters are overrated.