California Dreaming

It’s been cold in Southern California. Okay, I can hear you people in the Midwest and East Coast laughing. Cold? In sunny SoCal, like sure.

But it really was. If I tell you the temperatures, you back east people will laugh again. I know it was something like 21 in Chicago and not much warmer in New York. But cold feels different here.

We don’t have heavy brick walls to keep out the cold and hold in the heat. And my house seems to have different climate zones. My son’s old room is like the arctic, whereas the room where I write in will feel warm and snuggy. The living room and den have vaulted ceiling, so you can guess where it’s warm and where it isn’t.

My at home attire is affected by the cold inside. I feel like Ebenezer Scrooge in the old movie version of a Christmas Carol where he had a robe on over his clothes. That’s become my evening wear of choice. The room where I do yarn work and watch TV is right up there with my son’s old room in feeling like the arctic. The robe wasn’t even enough in there. I added a blanket and a cat in my lap.

I was grateful for the cowl I had just made out of baby alpaca yarn. The olive green of the cowl wasn’t the best combination with the red fleece robe, but it sure did the trick in the warmth department.

And then today when I went outside ready to shiver, I didn’t. The sun was out and the temperature was in the 60s. And tonight I am not bundled up inside the house. What a relief!

It’s so funny. I grew up in Chicago and walked over a mile to high school in weather so cold, my hair froze on the way home (I’d had swimming as my last class of the day and my hair was still wet). I pushed my mother’s car out of the snow. (Actually that’s not exactly true. She used to use me as a shill. I’d stand there and start to push the car, but then some University of Chicago guy students would come by and offer their help.) I’d walk long distance in the snow and not think anything of it. And now I’m making a big deal out of a few chilly days and wearing my robe over my clothes.

The thing is when I lived in Chicago, that was all I knew. But now I’ve gotten used to going out in the middle of winter with nothing more than a sweatshirt. I look out in my yard in the morning and even in December everything is green and there are flowers blooming. Thinking of being bundled up and wearing boots, hats, scarves and mittens feel claustrophobic. I love being able to live half outside all year round.

And the weatherman said it’s going to be 80 by Sunday. Wimpy me can’t wait.