|The neighbors were all looking me like I was nutso as I took pictures of the sky from my porch.|
And while you think that we must have been long used to the weather of Washington, this is the first year that I have felt fully acclimated. Yes, my acclimation to this cloud covered, rain soaked land has taken almost eight years. But just think of the difference!
In Florida, we do have hurricanes, so you would think that I would be used to heavy rain, but Washington's rain isn't all that heavy. The big thing is that the rain is constant. Florida's big rain is mostly seasonal, the rest of the time, rain is occasional. Here, one second you could be nice and dry, and the next second you could be getting pissed on by the heavens. There is no way to tell. Another difference is the sun. In Florida, a lot of times when rain did grace us, the sun would still be out, fighting the rain clouds for the right to dominate the sky. They were not wrong when they nicknamed Florida the Sunshine State. Compared to Washington, which is so gloomy that a certain author based her sparkle fairies (hmmm-hmmm, I mean vampires) here. The third major difference is the temperature. In Florida, during the summer it was only a matter of time before you hit the 100 degree weather. In Washington, hitting 90 degree weather sparks heat advisories, and no apartments come with air conditioning because that feature isn't considered necessary.
My daughter and I were sunshine people, beach people, and we moved to a place where all the beaches are cold, and where the sun rarely graces us. We were used to 90 degree weather as a norm, and we moved to a place were 90 degree weather was considered way too hot. My daughter had never seen snow, and she saw snow for the first time when we moved here. Not only snow, but ice. I had never even heard of an ice storm, but I moved here and found myself walked to work in the aftermath of one, and got pegged in the head with an icicle for my trouble (which freakin' hurts). I didn't know if I would ever like this place, and I surely wasn't imagining that I would ever feel that I fit in.
Except we both started to fit in, and this year, when we found ourselves facing 90 degree weather, and days without a drop of rain, I found myself stepping outside, shading my eyes even though I had sunglasses on and muttering, "I hate the sun." Whaaaaaaat?! Did I just say that? Not only that, but I found myself longing for 60 or 70 degree weather, and wishing for winter, formerly my most hated season.
Then I was hit by the realization that I am not longer a sun-child. My move to the North had been a sort of an exile from the South, I needed a refuge from certain people who lived there, and I had family up here who could help me out. But if I moved back to the South this minute, I would be miserable. I couldn't take the heat, I couldn't take the constant sun in my eyes, and the humidity would just slay me. This is because, beyond all explanation and reason, I have morphed into a mole person. And if I have morphed, then I insist that my daughter has morphed with me. I will not be alone in my mole-ness. We are mole people now.