Full admission – I live in Southern California, where only occasionally we get something close to Winter. As a matter of fact, my coldest winters have all been in Tucson. Where sometimes you’d wake up to frost on the cars, and slushy snow falling. My only White Christmas was in Tucson. I was 9, I think – and we had snowball fights and made a teeny snowman in my grandparents’ backyard.
But it does get chilly here. Sometimes dipping down into the 30s at night, with highs in the 50s. Today, it was 44 degrees when I went to take the Kidlets to school – so I wore my peacoat and my Wampa hat. 9 kids thought it was a yeti, one asked how I killed the wampa, and one of the kindergarteners asked why I don’t have a wolf hat. (It’s been ONE DAY since the werewolf thing, and this boy wasn’t even at that table!)
Yesterday morning though, I had a strange sort of sensory connection. I walked out in the crisp and chilly morning, and heard a distant sort of whirring sound. And in an instant, I was wondering where the nearest citrus groves were.
Confused? Back in Ventura, we lived next to a lemon grove (lots of citrus groves out there). When temperatures would dip too low, you’d hear the hum of their industrial fans trying to keep their crops from being damaged by frost. It was a nice sound- there were lots of nights where I’d fall asleep to the sound. Better than any white noise generator out there.
But there aren’t any citrus groves around here. Instead, it was the sound of a street sweeping machine a few streets over. Funny how a sound or smell can put you in a memory that clearly, though.
Stay warm everyone! Looking at the weather map for the country, it looks like it’s chilly for everyone but Florida.