Webbready

Yesterday, June 1, was a “cold” day in June, despite the sun shining for well over 12 hours that day.

It was not truly cold. Some people did venture out with shorts and short skirts. My mind, though, flashed back to an old episode of the Flintstones, where it was, indeed, a cold day in June. I wore a jacket and a high necked shirt and undershirt to protect against the slight breeze.

The day before yesterday was firmly chilly, with an overcast sky. I felt the air brush against my skin even though I was bundled up

The day before that, May 30, was rainy and cool enough that I wore the coat I wore to London and Physics Day decades ago. I wore that cost the day before yesterday, but I do not think I will wear a jacket again for a few months.

In a day, it will be blazing and oppressive in terms of heat, but right now, I am savoring the odd feeling of the tip of my nose, the tips of my toes and fingers, my ankles, and my shoulders all being cold in the month of June in the Northern atmosphere. It is possible I may never feel this sensation again.

Even as I write this, there is a chill in the air that persists long after the sun has risen.

It appears that in spite of my recent efforts to update this blog, my entries have become more disjointed than ever, so I had to go back to an even older, standard theme to make the entries of this blog display properly.

Change has been forced upon me.

My blog theme stopped working a few days ago, so I had to change the theme, but I decided to update WordPress after letting it languish.  Unfortunately, I broke my blog and I had to scramble to fix it. Ironically, this meant reverting to a very old theme, a theme that surprisingly still works.

Unlike the space between the previous two posts, the hiatus between my previous post and this one have been filled with events, many of which have been unpleasant. Change has not been good to me.

Instead of complaining, though, I will relay a positive surprise I discovered today.  I have not yet planted the summer crops, but I noticed a familiar weed growing in the untamed pots.  It looked like an herb I had planted last year, but I was skeptical.  This was an herb that could not overwinter.  Still, the leaves were familiar, and after a cursory examination I broke off a leaf and smelled the familiar aroma.

It was, indeed, cilantro.  It was not parsley, celery, or a buttercup, but cilantro!

I harvested and ate the cilantro leaves, along with a chive blossom to accompany my dinner of a leftover slice of “taco pie.”

It was delicious.

I have not written anything in this blog for more than three long years, and though there have been changes, more remains the same than I would like to admit.

Soon it will be spring, but I am grateful that aside from a couple of snowfalls, this winter has not been rough at all in terms of weather. There was one major snowfall, but for the most part it was warm and wet, with rain coming from the sky instead of snow.

I could use more winters like this in terms of weather.

At last winter has arrived. It is too late for the sub-zero temperatures, thankfully, and I am grateful that this year, the old man has been merciful.

This year, Halloween was a warm day, and a rainy, windy one. It was one of those days which precluded a plummeting of temperatures, an autumn day that starts out warm but cools with the onslaught of water from the sky. I thought to myself that day came a few weeks early, as it was not usually until the middle of November when we get the rain that beats all of the leaves off the trees. Because it was early, many trees retained their leaves that refused to turn any color but brown before falling.

Today is a repeat, and the day before a hard, cold rain comes in the night to shake the rest of the stubborn leaved from the trees. I was in such a rain once, during a game between the Kansas City Chiefs and the Pittsburgh Steelers in a game at Heinz Field. At first, the night was unusually warm for fall, but then it started to rain and the cold rain seeped through my layers of clothes and my covering. Even the retired player Chris Hoke commented that his toes were freezing.

The Steelers won that game, but I will never forget that rain, as it was the sign that fall was a transition to winter more than a season unto itself.

As I write this, it is 84 degrees outside and humid. At this time of year, it is usually crisp and cool, but I have not yet even had to put on a jacket since the first half of the year. Even though the leaves are falling from the trees, the weather is warm and I may have to turn on the air conditioning tonight.

Tomorrow will be the last warm day of the year and then the temperatures will plummet beyond the reach of sandals, shorts, and sleeveless shirts, and I will have to start putting socks back on and wearing jackets, then coats, and then boots. Winter will be here soon. I am thankful that once again, summer has taken its sweet time to say goodbye.

The air conditioner blares in the background summer is here, but this year I am not happy about it. I do not want fall or winter to arrive just yet, but at the same time, a summer spent in one spot is just a warmer version of spring.

Perhaps there will be more in the future that will draw my gaze forward.

Spring is in the air, and the barren trees have begun to burst with life. Although the weather of this winter was milder than most, temperature-wise, March was consistently cool. I do not mind the cool, as I have too many tasks ahead of me.

My nose is fond of itching when I go outside, which puzzles me, as it is early for my allergies. Perhaps I grow more allergic as I grow older.