Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Someone turned off the heat all up in here

North Carolina is generally a wonderful state to live in, weather wise (we shall not mention politics here, for it is crazy-making and anger-producing, in large part).  Temperatures through November usually stay pretty dang balmy, no jacket required.  Why, one year we were still mowing the yard well into December, so much was the balmy.  Now that is a fine Southern Winter, as it should be and never ever change.

However, just recently the temp settings have been switched from balmy straight into ‘chilly fingers,’ with very little in the way of quantitative easing to be had to soften the frigid blow.  Adjusting has been hard.  I’ve had to put on a scarf, for Pete’s sake, to ward off a chilly neck!  That usually doesn’t happen until December!  Add in the overcast sky and a slight drizzle, and what’s happening outside is EXACTLY what happened almost every Thanksgiving of my youth.  I know this because almost every Thanksgiving of my youth was spent partly in a car driving to the relative’s house on Long Island, looking out the station wagon windows at NYC in the overcast and cold drizzle.  Every single year (or so it seemed)

As it should be - Outdoors!
But NC isn’t NY, is it?  NC Thanksgivings are supposed to be warmish-weather affairs, with jolly families celebrating over their deep fryers in the back yard while a cheery fire crackles in the outdoor fireplace and Mom has to shut the windows so the smoke smell doesn’t get in the house, funking up the allspice and cinnamon Renuzit theme she’s working in preparation for The Big One (Christmas).  Thanksgiving in NC isn’t cold gray rain and freezing fingers, it’s not hunkering down over the stove trying to trap the rising heat while ol’ Tom bakes to a crispy-skin perfection and the green bean casserole bubbles over slightly making the house smell of burning cream-a soup!  That’s NORTHERN Thanksgiving!  That’s how the YANKEES do it!  We proud Carolinians shouldn’t be reduced to the ways of our forefathers, most of whom came from the North (as some of us also did, but whatever), granted, but whose blood thinned almost instantly on arriving in the land of the 100-degree summer!  We need sunshine and some touch football and to prune back the mums on Thanksgiving! 

But, of course, you can’t fight the weather.  It does what it wants, even if that involves delivering icy blasts of arctic air straight down our plus-fours or up our petticoats, causing a communal shiver of regret that we didn’t all play outdoors more when it was nice out last month.  My hope for an Indian summer isn’t totally lost, but fading fast.  It’s a little late for all that, what with it being nearly December, and thus it might be time again to think about maybe, this year, actually purchasing a coat if Winter is going to start this dang early and with such vigor.

And perhaps some gloves as well.  Can’t hurt to take that extra step.

A very happy Thanksgiving to all.  Take some time to count your blessings and share the love with those who could use it. 

Tiff out.