I'm ready for spring, and it looks like it may have already started in Charleston.
Never mind what the calendar says. It's spring when people start venturing outdoors with looks of wonder on their faces. It's like, hey, I lived through winter, and the world is a beautiful place. The coming of spring is intoxicating; people will wander out into the middle of the street, just taking in all the seasonal changes and never noticing the grille of the SUV bearing down on them (and of course the driver of the SUV is not paying attention; same reason). I have no statistics to back my claim up, but I'll bet there is more human roadkill during the first "real" week of spring than at any other time.
As for me, I'm loving it. As I write this (Saturday, about 1 p.m.), the sun is out. The temperature stands at 76 degrees, with a humidity of 43 percent. My front door is open, and I've got shorts on. About time. My legs are now so white they glow in the dark. Must do something about that.
I knew this was going to be any day now. A couple of days ago I was doing some preliminary spring things, sitting out in the front yard, cool drink and a book in hand, door open, stereo playing loudly enough for me to hear outside. With the dog outside on her run. That's when I noticed the weeds that were overtaking that growth I call a lawn. So I was up, in a rather inspired (for me) frenzy of activity. A half hour later I'd filled my garbage can, and the weeds were gone. They pulled out easily, and the lawn now looks like a herd of wildebeest passed through. Oh, well. It'll grow back.
But I'm loving it. Enough of this freezing my butt off. Enough of the below-freezing weather, with wind bringing the final temp lower than that. I was ready for spring since December, even before winter started.
All of y'all north of the Mason-Dixon line -- not to mention those living above the snow line -- are probably laughing right now as I give my account of winter here. I do have some regular readers in Minnesota, and I'm thinking about them as I write this. Well, kinda sorta.
The only real problem with the cold weather -- besides the fact I'm less tolerant of it as I get older -- is that I spend much of my day out in it. Most of my work is outdoors, catching the full blast of wind. Yes, my coworkers and I have been seen huddling over idling truck engines to keep warm. I'm not going to deny that. Plus, I bicycle to work, but that's not as much an issue as you might think. After about the first half mile I've got some personal heat going.
Earlier this week we had what (I hope) is the last blast of winter. Even a few snowflakes floating around, and those sightings are extremely rare in the Lowcountry. And, of course, I have been dressing for it:
- Long johns
- My standard jeans and T-shirt
- Sweatshirt
- Hooded camo jacket, military issue
- Hard hat on the job, worn over a do-rag. This last part is espeically crucial at all times of the year, because the plastic liner of the hard hat gets pretty uncomfortable on a head that gets balder every year.
- Scarf around the neck.
- Two pairs of gloves -- a fingerless leather pair, plus a full-sized glove on my right hand. No, I didn't lose my left glove, but I tried running my handheld computer with a gloved hand and it just doesn't work. The keys are about a quarter of the size of a desktop computer's keys, and I really need to feel them when I'm working. Of course, after a few minutes my exposed left hand won't feel anything anyway, so that probably doesn't make any difference. On extremely cold days I've kept a handwarmer in my left coat pocket, and it's like a campfire in there.
- Plus in my locker I keep a few other things: an extra sweatshirt, and my "monkey suit," zippered quilted one-piece coveralls.
A few days ago, the morning was particularly chilly, so on my way to work I was dressed out to the max -- including a black ski mask. Now, on my way in I'll usually stop on a bridge overlooking the rail yard to get a handle on what I may expect at work that day. I'm sure the folks are used to seeing me up there at a few minutes past 7 every morning. But ...
... with the ski mask I figured it might not be a real good idea to stop on top of that bridge. I'm not sure exactly what led me to that conclusion, especially because I'm not all that lucid at that hour of the morning. But instead of stopping I kept moving, looking over my shoulder at the rail traffic, hoping railroad security doesn't shoot me off the bridge. With my luck that'll be the day security is actually paying attention.
The sweatshirt is in my dirty-clothes hamper now, along with the scarf and ski mask. The camo jacket is hanging on the back of my office chair, and I may soon wash that and put it away. The extra sweatshirt and monkey suit are still in my locker, and I should probably keep them there through the rest of the month. If nothing else, Lowcountry weather changes a lot.
Never mind what the calendar says. It's spring when people start venturing outdoors with looks of wonder on their faces. It's like, hey, I lived through winter, and the world is a beautiful place. The coming of spring is intoxicating; people will wander out into the middle of the street, just taking in all the seasonal changes and never noticing the grille of the SUV bearing down on them (and of course the driver of the SUV is not paying attention; same reason). I have no statistics to back my claim up, but I'll bet there is more human roadkill during the first "real" week of spring than at any other time.
As for me, I'm loving it. As I write this (Saturday, about 1 p.m.), the sun is out. The temperature stands at 76 degrees, with a humidity of 43 percent. My front door is open, and I've got shorts on. About time. My legs are now so white they glow in the dark. Must do something about that.
I knew this was going to be any day now. A couple of days ago I was doing some preliminary spring things, sitting out in the front yard, cool drink and a book in hand, door open, stereo playing loudly enough for me to hear outside. With the dog outside on her run. That's when I noticed the weeds that were overtaking that growth I call a lawn. So I was up, in a rather inspired (for me) frenzy of activity. A half hour later I'd filled my garbage can, and the weeds were gone. They pulled out easily, and the lawn now looks like a herd of wildebeest passed through. Oh, well. It'll grow back.
But I'm loving it. Enough of this freezing my butt off. Enough of the below-freezing weather, with wind bringing the final temp lower than that. I was ready for spring since December, even before winter started.
All of y'all north of the Mason-Dixon line -- not to mention those living above the snow line -- are probably laughing right now as I give my account of winter here. I do have some regular readers in Minnesota, and I'm thinking about them as I write this. Well, kinda sorta.
The only real problem with the cold weather -- besides the fact I'm less tolerant of it as I get older -- is that I spend much of my day out in it. Most of my work is outdoors, catching the full blast of wind. Yes, my coworkers and I have been seen huddling over idling truck engines to keep warm. I'm not going to deny that. Plus, I bicycle to work, but that's not as much an issue as you might think. After about the first half mile I've got some personal heat going.
Earlier this week we had what (I hope) is the last blast of winter. Even a few snowflakes floating around, and those sightings are extremely rare in the Lowcountry. And, of course, I have been dressing for it:
- Long johns
- My standard jeans and T-shirt
- Sweatshirt
- Hooded camo jacket, military issue
- Hard hat on the job, worn over a do-rag. This last part is espeically crucial at all times of the year, because the plastic liner of the hard hat gets pretty uncomfortable on a head that gets balder every year.
- Scarf around the neck.
- Two pairs of gloves -- a fingerless leather pair, plus a full-sized glove on my right hand. No, I didn't lose my left glove, but I tried running my handheld computer with a gloved hand and it just doesn't work. The keys are about a quarter of the size of a desktop computer's keys, and I really need to feel them when I'm working. Of course, after a few minutes my exposed left hand won't feel anything anyway, so that probably doesn't make any difference. On extremely cold days I've kept a handwarmer in my left coat pocket, and it's like a campfire in there.
- Plus in my locker I keep a few other things: an extra sweatshirt, and my "monkey suit," zippered quilted one-piece coveralls.
A few days ago, the morning was particularly chilly, so on my way to work I was dressed out to the max -- including a black ski mask. Now, on my way in I'll usually stop on a bridge overlooking the rail yard to get a handle on what I may expect at work that day. I'm sure the folks are used to seeing me up there at a few minutes past 7 every morning. But ...
... with the ski mask I figured it might not be a real good idea to stop on top of that bridge. I'm not sure exactly what led me to that conclusion, especially because I'm not all that lucid at that hour of the morning. But instead of stopping I kept moving, looking over my shoulder at the rail traffic, hoping railroad security doesn't shoot me off the bridge. With my luck that'll be the day security is actually paying attention.
The sweatshirt is in my dirty-clothes hamper now, along with the scarf and ski mask. The camo jacket is hanging on the back of my office chair, and I may soon wash that and put it away. The extra sweatshirt and monkey suit are still in my locker, and I should probably keep them there through the rest of the month. If nothing else, Lowcountry weather changes a lot.
No comments:
Post a Comment