This has been a brutal winter in the Houston area, and I’ve hated it. Hate, hate, hate the cold! Hate, hate, hate the north winds! Wind chill is for northerners, not southerners!
I lived in the Chicago area for the first 30 years of my life, and I had to put up with the cold and wind chill, not to mention the ice and snow. That’s just part of the Midwestern winter package. I didn’t like it, but I accepted it, because, hey, it’s cold up north!
But now I’ve lived in the south for the last 26 years, and mild winters are the best part of the weather experience (which almost make up for our sometimes unbearable summers). I’ve loved our temperate southeast Texas climate. I look forward to those nice temps while sweating through the summer and early fall.
But this year something has changed. For the worse! It seems that the Houston area has been mired in damp, chilly weather this entire winter . . . and it’s not about to end any time soon.
According to the “Houston Chronicle’s” science writer, Eric Berger, I’m not imagining things. Here’s what he had to say in his blog:
Consider last February in Houston, when 21 of the month’s 28 days had high temperatures of 70 degrees or above, and there was not one night of freezing temperatures. On three days temperatures topped out in the 80s.
Contrast that with this February, when we’ve had just one—just one!—day when temperatures reached 70 degrees. And so far there have been four freezes.
For people who know Houston weather, this winter has felt really cold.
My friends and family from up north have scoffed at our cold-weather complaints on Facebook. They think we’re just wimps, whiners, and weenies. Hey, I’m not arguing! Yes, we are! Of course, they’d feel the same way during August here.
It all means that, like it or not, we’ve had to adapt and pull on our warmer clothes . . . lots of them! Take last night’s high school junior varsity track meet. As I said in Tuesday’s blog post, I would learn from freezing at the first meet and dress more warmly. Which I did! I layered my warm Cuddl Duds under my sweatpants and sweatshirt. Added my warmest jacket, complete with a stylish hood, and I felt pretty toasty once the sun went down.
Except for my hands. I can’t use gloves when I shoot, so I mostly suffered in silence. Except when someone came close enough. Then I complained. A lot.
Meanwhile, our athletes tried to stay as warm as possible before having to brave the wind-chilled 40ish temps in their shorts and singlets.
At least the kids were on the move, which helped them keep warmer.
The parents were mostly huddled together along the fence . . .
. . . or on those frosty cold aluminum bleachers. Doesn’t the Mister look thrilled? I didn’t dare attempt a thought bubble!
Unfortunately for us, the track meet dragged on and on and on, because there were 13 teams. With all those freshmen boys and junior varsity girls and boys, that made for at least five heats for most of the events. And we had to stay until the end, because our #2 son was running in the 4 x 400-meter relay . . . the very last race. Weren’t we lucky? No, we didn’t think so either.
The meet wasn’t over until almost 10 p.m. On a school night!
By the end of the evening . . .
. . . we all felt like curling up in a blanket in the fetal position! Whining all the way!!