Then summer came and there was the heat. I was staying with a friend who lived in a trailer. A trailer with no air conditioning. One morning the sun came out and the ground seemed to erupt with mahogany colored wasps. They were everywhere. Then it got hot. A horrible hot I have experienced many times since then but never like that first day. I took a quick shower. It didn't help. It was my first experience with humidity. I can tolerate it much better now, or maybe my expectations are different. Regardless, I have stayed.
There are things I miss about the west coast. Sunsets over the water. Lemons growing in the backyard. Here I have weather. Lots and lots of weather. I did live in New England for several years. There you have winter. Lots and lots of winter. Here there's a bit of everything. On this February day it is near 60, later this week they expect it will be back into the single digits at night. The weather even changes close to the days on the calendar. Just about the time the calendar counts down to spring it will feel like spring here. The crocus will have covered the lawns and the tulips will stand in the otherwise bare gardens in bright colors. I have them in my garden in soft pinks of all shades like strawberry ice cream. Another winter will have passed. No matter how many different kinds of weather I see it is much more exciting I think than weatherlessness. The same temperature, day after day, month after month is not for me. I guess that's a basic in my personality. A life that once held adversity makes the easier times in life so much sweeter. In a weatherless life would I notice a tulip in the same way?
There are changes in language from the west to the east. Green onions and scallions and handbags and purses and pocketbooks. An elastic or rubber band, a parlor or livingroom, waaater or wooter. When we talked about someone being 'knocked-up' in L.A. it meant something very different to what the children here refer to when they 'knock up'. But one of the things I find adorable about Philadelphia are the chairs saving the shoveled out parking spaces. If you have ever cleared out the dimensions of a car, plus the space to get in and out of the spot, the snow wet and heavy (which is the type of snow we get here), and then have someone pull their car into that spot you will understand. And whenever I see an old lawn chair placed for that purpose in the road I have to think that for every chair in a shoveled out parking space there is a story. What one comes to mind for you?
Think about it and thank you for visiting...