Daylight

Stadium Road at Dusk I thought it was odd when I slept past eleven o’clock this morning.  This afternoon, I was surprised and delighted to learn that daylight saving time has begun.  I rode my bike home from work tonight after seven o’clock, and still had enough light to sort the recycling.

Better still, it is less frigid lately than it has been in months.  I am building Miriam a closet, and while I work I have been keeping the windows open.  The azaleas are beginning to bloom, too, and the trees are getting their new leaves.  This has been a horrible winter.

Frigorifick

WindbreakerFirst of all, Happy New Year.

I have lived in Gainesville for more than a decade, and in that time I have grown accustomed to temperatures I did not ever experience when living in St. Petersburg.  Granted, Gainesville is less than two hundred miles north of St. Pete, but, still, that makes a substantial difference.  Winter nights in Gainesville regularly dip into the thirties, and once a year, perhaps, we have a day that doesn’t reach fifty degrees.  But, no matter what, after a day or two the temperatures always creep back up, and afternoon highs once again hover around seventy degrees.

In my entire life in Florida I have never experienced a cold spell like this.  It isn’t merely the extreme cold, although it is definitely that: we have had days recently that barely climbed above forty degrees.  Rather, what is so distressing to everyone is the seemingly endless nature of this cold.  For about two weeks now it has been freezing cold.  At home, our heater is running nearly non-stop to keep the house at a comfortable temperature.  I dread turning on the faucet because the water is so frigid it almost feels worse than scalding.  Meanwhile, going outside for anything–even just to run to the car–is a miserable and dreaded chore.  I haven’t dared to ride my bike in almost a week.  School started last Tuesday, and everyone you see on campus is wearing a hooded sweatshirt with his hands tucked into his pockets.

Fortunately, Miriam bought me a windbreaker for Christmas, which has absolutely paid for itself and more over the last two weeks.  Coupled with a pair of gloves my mother sent me, I have managed to protect my skin from frostbite (possibly an exaggeration).

The forecast for tonight is eighteen degrees, and there is no word yet when the cold will end.  Some say Friday, but I feel it may never be warm again.

Forecast: Misery

This weather this week has been disgusting, and today was the worst.  Have you ever walked from a cool, air-conditioned room into a bathroom where someone has just taken a scalding hot shower, and the air is thick with water vapor?  That’s what it felt like this morning when I left for school.  It was in the mid-90s today, and the humidity is close to 90 percent.  A week or so ago we had a couple days with highs in the 70s.

Don’t Talk to Strangers

DSC_2517 I was awoken this morning by extremely loud thunder, which must have originated nearby, since the flashes of lightning were nearly simultaneous.  The rain had not ceased by the time I had to leave for school, so I donned my backpack as usual, and over it a poncho I bought at Disney World, and started pedalling toward campus.  The poncho leaves most of my legs uncovered, so from about three inches above my knees my pants were saturated, down to my shoes, and into my socks.  My bicycle has no fenders, so I also sported an elegant dirt stripe on the back of my pants and the bottom of my backpack.  But, on the plus side, I barely broke a sweat over the three-and-a-half mile ride.

I did add a class about ancient Egypt to my schedule, and it is the first class I have ever taken in McCarty Hall.  It’s in an auditorium, and, in spite of the rain, it seemed nearly full.  I dropped the course about America in the 1970s.  I had reservations about the instructor, and it would require a goodly amount of writing, whereas the Egyptology class requires none.

On my bike ride home, after it had stopped raining, I encountered a small boy also on a bicycle.  He said, “What’s up, dude?  Want to race?”  He couldn’t have been more than eight years old.

…And the Living Is Sweaty

Summer is officially here, and with it brutally hot temperatures.  The last week has seen near-record heat.  I almost passed out on my bike ride to work yesterday.  I enjoy getting the exercise, but arriving at work dripping with sweat is unpleasant.  Today was over 96 degrees, and tomorrow will probably be about the same.  A year ago today I was at Wrigley Field, enjoying temperatures in the 70s.