Picture perfect: the groundhog better be right

I’ve seen the photos of the sea of white on Lake Shore Drive in Chicago, the roofs collapsing under the weight of several feet of snow, and various four-foot long icicles. And, I joyfully celebrate living south of the Mason/Dixon line, of being a resident of the single state lacking in snow this winter.

Yankee friends have bemoaned the snow, ice, wind, freezing rain, power outages, and near about every thing else possible during the recent Sno-toriousBIG. (My favorite nickname for the massive winter storm that hit the Midwest last week.)

While all that winter chaos was happening, I suppose in some sort of lame show of solidarity, short of actually recording any measurable frozen precipitation – Florida meteorologists reported on the Sunshine State’s own sub-freezing temperatures, continuing rain, and general winter malaise. The rest of the nation should have sent down a collective “shut-the-fuck-up-you-bunch-of-pusses.” By comparison, our meager attempts at matching the weather being produced by our hardy neighbors to the north fell well short of any real (insert weather condition)-ocalypse.

I’m unashamedly acclimated to the tropical-ish weather here, donning multiple layers of wool and felted cotton if temps fall below a blood chilling 60F. I abhor the cold, snow and any other weather pattern that requires me to wrap myself in flannel and fleece. I could in no way survive living in the real cold.

Fortunately for me, Florida not only has a wimpy winter, but also a short one. It’s generally considered planting season around mid-February. I hope to be putting in new bulbs shortly after Valentine’s Day, and packing away my sweaters before Easter. (You can hate me now.)

By the end of the month, temps are expected to creep up toward 70F and I could not be happier. Monday? Gorgeous!