When I moved from the east coast to San Francisco lo those many years ago, I got seriously bitter when "Summer" would roll around and we would be greeted by mini-skirts and tank tops in store windows while we wore wool sweaters and hats to brave the chilly, damp fog that was a permanent fixture of 4th of July barbecues. I wore shorts exactly once a year, usually with a wool sweater.
Moving to the 'burbs of LA two years ago (Holy hell! Has it really been 2 years?!?!), I was psyched to finally have some real summer. I believe I even said that out loud. "I'm ready for hot, dry weather", I believe I said.
Can I take it back?
Now the stores are all full of wool sweaters and high heeled boots and it was 90 degrees yesterday. It's almost November, people.
And, of course, the fires rage. They aren't right where I live but it's still too close for comfort. The sky on Monday was dirt brown. The sun glowed orange whenever it could peek through the sludge in our atmosphere. I didn't walk the dog because I didn't want any of us to breathe the air. I kept Zoe inside all day, which just about drove us all insane.
I haven't lived here long enough to understand just how abnormal this is. I spent the first year here saying "Santa Ana wha?" and "Wildfires? They're only a problem for people who live in the backwoods of Colorado.". Apparently, they are also a concern for those in the backwoods of Malibu.
I know that "global climate change", or whatever we're calling the total destruction of our environment these days, isn't just about my little corner of the world getting hotter but seriously. WTF?
2 comments:
Well, I totally feel you on the weather, obviously. I don't know about you, but I have been here 11 years now and my bitterness has only grown.
I went looking for a fleece jacket (or at least something light weight) for Mimi the other day, and all I could find in the stores were hard-core winter jackets. It's my first winter in LA, but this seems absurd...
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