Musings on Winter

The weather man says that El Nino is responsible for this year's mild start to winter. But I (and a bunch of others, I'm sure) can't help but wonder about how much is due to global warming. In the name of Al Gore, make it stop! Anyway, this has meant that this former California resident hasn't had to contend with winter as it is traditionally defined in New England. Until recently, that is, now that it has actually become cold enough to freeze stuff. And it has even snowed a (tiny) bit. I managed to scoop up a little to make a snowball to throw at Todd. This made me happy, and I may have even skipped a little. I know that this is nothing, and I may not be skipping when it snows for real and the trudging begins, but still. I'm happily clad in my down parka, and all I can do is hope that the geese don't peck my eyes out in revenge when they return from their winter homes. I've seen The Birds. I know what can happen.

Maybe my lovely parka has something to do with a funny incident that happened the other night when I left the office to go home. It had been very chilly in the morning -- it might have been the morning that the snot in my nose froze a little, but maybe that was another morning -- and I hadn't been out of the office all day. The temperature had risen by the evening, and when I left, I thought to myself how much warmer it was than it had been that morning. I estimated the temperature to be somewhere in the mid-thirties. And then I thought: When did the thirties become warm?

The fact that this is "warm" means that I am very pale. Paler than I have been since I was born. But even then I might have had more color, because at least then I would have been pink. My permanent watch tan that has resulted from years of all-season running outside in T-shirts is nearly gone. When I left the house to go running this Sunday, Google Weather told me that it was 12 degrees with a windchill of zero. And you know what? I was cold (and, yes, I was wearing something more appropriate than a T-shirt). But I ran those 6 miles anyway because I like to pretend to be hardcore. And also, if I didn't keep running, I would have died of exposure. Or at least I would have been uncomfortable until one of the other runners I saw called for help. I think they actually might have been hardcore.

I should get some more sweaters.