No, not THAT kind of change.
A different kind of change. Today I exited the house as a trade wind blew its chill fingers over me and I shivered, reaching for my sweater. I got in the car and looked at the thermometer.
78 degrees.
Really? I am COLD when it’s 78 degrees? How cold is the wind, 50?
So even though I got rid of all but two sweaters when I moved here, um, it looks like maybe, next year, we’ll have to buy some more. Sweaters, windbreakers, jeans, pajamas with pants for the kids. Not footies, though they do sell those at Wal-Mart and Costco like we’re in the mid west. No. I draw the line at footies.
I’m hoping this means when the hot weather rolls around I won’t feel like a volcanic rock is sitting on my chest, like I did last year. Here’s to hoping.
MARGARET DILLOWAY 