The weirdest thing happened the 21st of September. Fall.
As in, the season. As in the temperatures changing. As in summer ending. Isn’t that strange?
I am used to the following “seasons”: two cold days, hot, oh-my-stinkin’-heck-it’s hot, and warm.
Here, in the new to us area of Albuquerque, they have the following: winter, spring, summer, and fall. Isn’t that strange?
It came out of the blue: colder weather. One day it was hot, the next, we needed light jackets (or in my wimpy case: a jacket and a pair of knee high socks and boots). And while the chill has fluctuated during the day since then, it hasn’t at night or morning.
A co-worked told Paul, “Well, summer’s officially over. Fall is here. Looks like it started a tiny bit early this year.”
He was like, “That’s it. All of a sudden it changes?”
“Yup, pretty much.”
Sure enough, the next day, I had to get out my boots and my scarves. I wore them in the house. I still do every morning.
The temperature was below forty. The tile floor was cold. We could see our breath in the air in the morning. We all looked at each other as if we had landed on Mars.
Really, we should have known, since summer was a bit strange here.
The night we arrived, weary from the emotional exit and the eleven hours in the car, at 9:00pm on May 7th, we stepped out of the car and it was 47 degrees. Forty-seven, people. As in 4-7. As in under 75. On May 7th. May. As in, “You’re not in Central Texas anymore, darlin’.”
May is summer in Central Texas. Actually, so is April, September, October and a bit of November, in addition to the basic June, July, and August. Seriously.
Turns out, Albuquerque follows the cute little elementary school visuals: seasons each have three months, no sharing.
The leaves change to signal that weather is actually going to change.
While I admit being more than a bit daunted by the temperature (aka: I might have shed a few tears already in fear), I sure love watching the mountains slowly turn yellow and am in love with aspens.
This may not seem like a big deal, but… when your kids run around bare foot or in Crocs almost all year, wear shorts most of the time, and your “winter” wardrobe consists of three long sleeved shirts, well… it’s sorta a big deal.
I am already cold and that has me pretty stinkin worried about winter. My constant side kick, my Tervis brimming with iced tea, looks to be left at the sidelines for mornings as will yogurt for breakfast. My innards match my outards (remember, I enjoy making up words here) when drinking or eating either of those and I feel as if I will never be warm. Seriously.
So… it’s fall here. I’ll probably adjust to the idea just in time for the first day of winter. And then I may cry.
Have any tips for this girl who isn’t used to fall or winter as true seasons, versus a few days?