If I never saw winter ever again, that would be just fine by me. Since my family lives in the commonwealth, and this is where I was born in raised, in the grand Keystone State, I have always lived here. Someday, I swear, I'll honestly move to the tropical climates and the crystal blue waters of the Caribbean. But, until then, here I will remain.
And, since I am here until the long-off future (or until I hit Powerball at least, whatever comes first), I am stuck with Old Man Winter.
I grew up in northwestern Pennsylvania, home to lake-effect snowfalls and very long hard winters. When I came many years ago to the Philadelphia area, I found the “shorter” winters and far less snowfall to be a vacation. I have since come to hate even them.
This past week of temperatures in the single digits, I have been reminded of the deep-rooted hatred I have for the cold. But, something I may hate more than winter itself is the weather man's coverage of said season.
Let's start with the “real feel” temperature. The term “wind chill” wasn't enough? Somehow, we have come to an age of relaying not only actual temperatures, the temperature read on the thermometer, but also the “feel” of that same temperature. In other words, when the wind blows, those out in the terrible cold FEEL a cooler temperature than “actual.”
I am not sure when this phenomenon began. I remember beginning to be annoyed with actual temps and then wind chills. But now the “real feel” is really more than I can bear.
To top that, weather personalities have also in this week of bone-chilling temps, to just skim over the actual degrees. In nearly every coverage of the weather this week, I have heard that temperatures will be “in the teens” or “single digits.”
Apparently, when the weather gets to a certain level of cold, we don't even give the actual temperatures either. I mean, if the day was to range between 51 and 59 or 41 and 49 degrees, we wouldn't glaze over it saying that the temps would be “in the forties.” We give an exact number.
On the other hand, as soon as you step out the door these days, your breath is taken away. It makes your joints achy to walk in this weather, even a few short blocks. Your face blisters in the wind. And, forget taking the kids out! I hate to even run them to the store.
I know in a few short months, we will be back to sunny days, playing outside and basking in the warm breezes. It seems an eternity away for now.
Until then, I will continue my dreams of white sandy beaches, banana daiquiris and aqua marine waters. That and winning Powerball...
And, since I am here until the long-off future (or until I hit Powerball at least, whatever comes first), I am stuck with Old Man Winter.
I grew up in northwestern Pennsylvania, home to lake-effect snowfalls and very long hard winters. When I came many years ago to the Philadelphia area, I found the “shorter” winters and far less snowfall to be a vacation. I have since come to hate even them.
This past week of temperatures in the single digits, I have been reminded of the deep-rooted hatred I have for the cold. But, something I may hate more than winter itself is the weather man's coverage of said season.
Let's start with the “real feel” temperature. The term “wind chill” wasn't enough? Somehow, we have come to an age of relaying not only actual temperatures, the temperature read on the thermometer, but also the “feel” of that same temperature. In other words, when the wind blows, those out in the terrible cold FEEL a cooler temperature than “actual.”
I am not sure when this phenomenon began. I remember beginning to be annoyed with actual temps and then wind chills. But now the “real feel” is really more than I can bear.
To top that, weather personalities have also in this week of bone-chilling temps, to just skim over the actual degrees. In nearly every coverage of the weather this week, I have heard that temperatures will be “in the teens” or “single digits.”
Apparently, when the weather gets to a certain level of cold, we don't even give the actual temperatures either. I mean, if the day was to range between 51 and 59 or 41 and 49 degrees, we wouldn't glaze over it saying that the temps would be “in the forties.” We give an exact number.
On the other hand, as soon as you step out the door these days, your breath is taken away. It makes your joints achy to walk in this weather, even a few short blocks. Your face blisters in the wind. And, forget taking the kids out! I hate to even run them to the store.
I know in a few short months, we will be back to sunny days, playing outside and basking in the warm breezes. It seems an eternity away for now.
Until then, I will continue my dreams of white sandy beaches, banana daiquiris and aqua marine waters. That and winning Powerball...
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