This week we have been experiencing some really beautiful weather here in Southern California. It has been surreal to post pictures on Instagram of my kids basking in the sunshine, and then scroll through my feed to see so many pictures of sledding children and snow-covered houses. I almost feel guilty about posting the photos of us cavorting outdoors while so many people are in the middle of snow storms . . . but then again, I am reminded that not everyone abhors winter weather quite the way I do.
I grew up in sunny Florida, where the weather varied between humid and sweltering hot. I always felt jealous of the kids who grew up with changing seasons; especially kids who lived in places where it snowed. We never experienced that “White Christmas” we heard tell of in holiday songs. So when it came time to choose a college destination, I was determined to attend a school somewhere where the seasons changed. As silly as it sounds, that seemed exciting and even exotic to me. After senior year I packed up my bags and moved to Cincinnati, Ohio, where the winters were rather brutal (at least to me). And let me tell you… I was not a fan. I slipped constantly on the ice, I was scared to death to drive in the snow, I was perpetually confused by what to wear to stay warm, and I just generally felt chilled to the bone from November through March. Living in that kind of cold weather made me feel stir crazy. It was unfathomable to me that there were months of the year where I just couldn’t go outside for more than 15 minutes without feeling miserable. I missed sunshine and tank tops and being outdoors.
One of my strongest memories of that time was waking up to the sound of people scraping snow off their car windshields, and realizing that I would have to do the same thing. I remember laying in bed and vowing to myself that I would never again live somewhere where I would be required to scrape ice off my windshield in the morning. That cold feeling when the ice has permeated your gloves and the cold is radiating through the concrete up into your boots and your nose feels like an icicle? I am quite content to never experience that again in my life. Luckily for me, the boy I fell in love with was from California and very much felt the same way about the cold weather. We bonded over our disdain for the cold and moved out of that frozen tundra as soon as the ink on on our diplomas had dried.
But clearly, there are people that enjoy the seasons because not everyone is moving en masse to the southern states. So I am curious, especially as a look at these winter photos . . . For those of you who live where the weather gets cold, do you like it? Do you mind it? Is it something that is fun for a few months but then it gets old? Was my reaction to cold weather the way everyone reacts, but you get used to it? Or am I just overdramatic about the whole thing and it’s something that you embrace because you enjoy the change?
How do you feel about the weather where you live? And would you ever (or have you ever) made a move solely based on weather?