Unless you’ve been living in a cave, or overseas, you probably know that we’ve been having an exceptionally warm winter, which, in the past couple of weeks has led to a very early spring. It’s a little unsettling, I have to admit, but I’m thrilled.
Heck, if this were June I’d be thrilled.
We’re breaking all kinds of records right now. Birds and small children are confused. I’ve been sweating profusely for days, and humidity is winning the battle over my hair.
And somewhere Al Gore is sipping a Manhattan, his feet propped up on a leather ottoman, laughing.
This is crazy weather.
I’ve noticed over the past few days, with all of this weather-craziness, that there are two kinds of people: those who see these warm, sunny days as a kiss from God, and those who are waiting for the mid-April blizzard.
I’m in the first camp. I blithely reach for a short-sleeved blouse as I get dressed for work. I happily stroll across campus, basking in the warmth radiating from the sidewalk. I even stop to take pictures of the flowering trees; I’m so taken aback by their early beauty.
And even though I do have fleeting moments of wondering what all this early budding will mean a couple of months from now—will we have flowers in May if they all bloom now?—I don’t really care. I’m simply enjoying every blissfully broken record that comes my way.
My husband, on the other hand, is in the other camp. Every day he announces (with some sense of authority, I might add) that this cannot possibly last and there’s no way spring could come this early and we haven’t seen the end of things yet.
Two camps. Two ways of looking at things. Two entirely different perspectives.
He says po-tay-to (with a strong Chicago accent!); I say po-tah-to. (Not really, but you get the idea.)
And that’s pretty much how things go around here. We’ll wait this one out to see who’s right.
How about you? Are you blithely enjoying the warmer weather? Or are you getting your snow shovel ready?