Friday,
August 6, 1999
I cannot frigging believe this.
You know how most of North America seems to be suffering from a heat wave right now? Well, I found out where all the cold air went to.
A few days ago, when we got back from England, it was sweltering here. We had the window open, the fan running, the whole nine yards. This morning, we had a rainstorm in Stockholm. Which was good -- we haven't had any rain for awhile, and the lawn was starting to look more like wheat than grass. Maybe around noon, though, I noticed that I was a little chilly. Being a sensible person, I closed the windows, and the chill was gone.
Then, as afternoon turned into evening, I noticed that I was getting chilly again. Strange, I thought, but then again I come from Chiocago so I'm used to weird weather. So I go put on my green furry bathrobe (makes me look like Oscar the Grouch, it does), my old killer attack bunny slippers, and sit down to do some writing. It wasn't until I wandered into the kitchen for a drink that I thought to look at the thermostat helpfully positioned right outside our kitchen window.
It read nine degrees Celsius.
Nine degrees? I mean, come on, I know we're in Scandanavia, but we were here last year during August and it never got that cold. And since I'm an American and still haven't quite wrapped my head around the concept of Celsius (I understand it, but it still doesn't make the emotional impact that a reading in Farenheit does), I dug out my chemistry textbook, found the conversion formula for Celsius to Farenheit, and did the math.
48 degrees Farenheit.
48 degrees Farenheit.
This is frigging August, people! It isn't supposed to be frigging 48 degrees Farenheit in August, even in Stockholm! I'm supposed to be wearing shorts, with a light sheen of sweat on my face as I type, a cool drink at my side and an urge to find a breeze. I shouldn't be sitting here wrapped up in terrycloth and feeling a cold draft around my knees. ARRRRGGHHHHH!
And to think, this time last week I was standing in the middle of Taunton, enjoying the hot weather and saying, "Now THIS is summer!" It makes you want to weep, it really does. I ain't thrilled about Swedish winters, but I've learned to accept them and dress in layers. But dear, sweet God, please don't start it just yet. Please give us a few more weeks of bright, sunny weather and warm temperatures.
And if You can't do that, God, could You at least arrange a swap with Texas?