Weather Whiplash

One of the peculiarities of southwestern Pennsylvania is the way winter collides with summer. Oh, sure, there’s such a thing as spring serving as a buffer zone. But spring is unpredictable, unreliable. And brief.

It’s also my favorite season. Even if it only lasts three days. Those are probably the only three days out of the year when I don’t complain about the weather. All winter, I moan about being too cold. I complain about taking ten minutes to pile on layers upon layers of clothing just to run outside to shake out rugs or fetch the mail.

Then fickle spring teases me with sunny, warm afternoons only to dump rain on the days I make plans to enjoy the outdoors.

Saturday morning I had ice on the windshield of my car in the morning. Yesterday, I sweltered with windows thrown open and ceiling fans running full tilt. Instead of grumbling about the cold, I was whining about being too hot. This morning I had hubby put the window air conditioner unit in the bedroom. It’s a big unit and we have a small house, so it suffices until our furnace dies at which time we’ll replace it and include whole house a/c.

The point is FIVE days ago, we had ice. Today the temperature is nearing ninety. Each season is supposed to be three months long. So what happened to the soft breezes, low humidity, and seventy-degree temperatures of spring?

Welcome to southwestern Pennsylvania.


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