Entry tags:
Would you like a little spring in January?
We were joking about it--balmy days in January, not as much rain as usual, no bitter cold days to remind us of the Blue Northers to come (I've talked about Blue Northers before, but don't remember when...) We usually hover in the upper forties now, dropping to low thirties at night--at least in memory. My office was cold at night last year (old windows.) It's better now, with mostly new windows, but still ten degrees cooler than the rest of the house.
Now, a small magnolia next door is in full bloom.
"Stop it!" I yell down at the tree. It's too young to know that the weather is a lie, a farce--that when we least expect it, winter will roll down upon us like a eiderdown comforter, and smother us in cold, not warmth. In late February, early March...POW! A friend is desperately transplanting his roses, trying to move them before they leave dormancy.
Or will winter return? The only thing to bother me more than returning cold (which makes my condition much worse, bah-- ) is knowing that maybe, this year the winter has gone. Our rainy fall was a bust, only one real cold snap in December (17 degrees F.) to drive the bugs deeper--will the spring monsoons come? We're having 60s in the day, 30s at night. Cold enough at night that I don't like getting into the hot tub--not if there's wind.
I shock the cats and myself with static electricity, constantly. Allie could not draw water from the air right now.
I wrote FIRES OF NUALA during a drought, waiting for the fall monsoons to return. Now I poke around with a short story, and surviving drought is part of the tale.
I'd better go set a hose before web work...
Update:
Now the smaller lantana in the window box is putting out leaves. Lantana doesn't start growing until it hits the 80s!
I just cut the big one back to stalks, so at least one of them won't look silly when it finally re-leafs...
Now, a small magnolia next door is in full bloom.
"Stop it!" I yell down at the tree. It's too young to know that the weather is a lie, a farce--that when we least expect it, winter will roll down upon us like a eiderdown comforter, and smother us in cold, not warmth. In late February, early March...POW! A friend is desperately transplanting his roses, trying to move them before they leave dormancy.
Or will winter return? The only thing to bother me more than returning cold (which makes my condition much worse, bah-- ) is knowing that maybe, this year the winter has gone. Our rainy fall was a bust, only one real cold snap in December (17 degrees F.) to drive the bugs deeper--will the spring monsoons come? We're having 60s in the day, 30s at night. Cold enough at night that I don't like getting into the hot tub--not if there's wind.
I shock the cats and myself with static electricity, constantly. Allie could not draw water from the air right now.
I wrote FIRES OF NUALA during a drought, waiting for the fall monsoons to return. Now I poke around with a short story, and surviving drought is part of the tale.
I'd better go set a hose before web work...
Update:
Now the smaller lantana in the window box is putting out leaves. Lantana doesn't start growing until it hits the 80s!
I just cut the big one back to stalks, so at least one of them won't look silly when it finally re-leafs...