While walking to Jane's for lunch an hour ago, I thought how lovely the temperature is today. And now it is flurrying heavily; not blindingly, just heavily.
"If it could stay this temperature for the rest of the season, it would make everyone so much happier," I said to myself.
But no, the red bar of doom has returned to the weather page but instead of a blizzard, it's announcing frigid windchills. Nothing says leave the extra Newfoundland wool blanket on the bed like an Extreme Cold Warning.
I think we'd cope with winter better if it wasn't so...so...VOLATILE. These fluctuations are disconcerting, I think. Jane has always said, "If it would in cold at about minus 12, minus 15 and stay there all winter, it would be much easier to deal with."
I suppose the bright spot is what my husband pointed out this morning: "It's almost the end of February. This might be the last cold snap of winter."
Can I have an Amen to that?
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