After being in the Midwest for nearly two and a half weeks, Baby A and I are home. We’re sleeping in our own beds with our friends (his, stuffed; mine, purring) and in separate rooms. And now, it begins—resuming our schedule. So far, he has woken up at 5 AM and slept most of yesterday. I took a two hour nap yesterday and could barely keep my eyes open past 10 PM last night. While all of this is a bit of a PIA, traveling is worth it.
During those 17 days, Alexander was surrounded by people who loved him (and it wasn’t just M and me). He played with other kids for hours. He experienced snow, played with puppies and ate boxed mac n’ cheese. All things that don’t happen in our home. He laughed and laughed and laughed. He made others do the same. And now that we are home, I miss the family, the cold weather, the impromptu dinners, the conversation and the constant playing. I’ll try to keep up with my son’s insatiable appetite for play that was fulfilled by numerous cousins these past couple of weeks. Luckily, I know I can keep him laughing.
A home office will never feel the same after working in a sun room that overlooks this peaceful scape.
First of all, I realize that I live in Southern California where the temperature never gets below a balmy 40 degrees, depending on where you live. But I have a closet full of coats and jackets. I believe my obsession is stronger than my shoe fetish. It must be my strong desire to live East, whether it’s New York, Boston, DC or Chicago, that fuels it. And maybe if I was typing this in Chicago where it is supposed to feel like -17 degrees I might feel differently. But I’m not; so my white Christmas fantasies will continue. I digress.
This week not only did we experience rain (hopefully there is more to come this weekend) but our high temp didn’t get past 60. Time to open the coat closet. I have worn four of my 10 coats and jackets. (I realize this doesn’t seem like much, but I live in LA! C’mon.) I’ve worn my London Fog rain coat, my H&M $30 special camel coat, my Elie Tahari down blazer and my vintage brown leather jacket (My family has had this jacket since I was 10. I remember my mom buying it at the Laguna Sawdust Festival. Crazy.)
The cold weather changes the pulse of fashion around here. Sure left-coasters are going to sport the UGGS but then there is another group of us that yearn to be back from where we came (in my case, Chicago) fashionably and it’s cool to see. It is almost as if cold weather make us think more about what we should be wearing. And the responsible thing to me is to choose a coat to plan the rest of my outfit around.
There’s been a lot of complaining from my friends on facebook and twitter about the temperatures reaching triple digits. And yes, 100-plus is hot but know this: if it’s a dry heat it feels about 10 degrees less.
I grew up in Palm Springs and the most miserable summer I endured was the first one I spent in the San Fernando Valley. (It even beat the summers I spent in Chicago. At least there you could possibly get a breeze off the lake.) I’m not sure if it was the smog or the humid or both, but it was 110-degrees of gross. In the Coachella Valley, it was only really unbearable when it hit 120. Otherwise, you could still breathe and go outside. But that seems to have changed. Now that there are more golf course and more green grass, there is more humidity and the summer really can suck. That is why when it’s hot you want it to be truly dry.
In Phoenix, it’s dry. Landscaping is more brown—sand, cacti, palos verde—than green—trees, grass, planted flowers. All of the latter need water, and the more of those things are planted, the more water is in the air, and the more humid it is. Our first (and last) weeks in Phoenix were spent in 95-plus degree heat. It wasn’t bad. Actually it was quite lovely out. The same temperatures would have felt like the middle of hell in the San Fernando Valley, specifically Woodland Hills. It’s amazing what a lack of water can do to temperature perception. That’s why I’ll take a dry heat any day.