The video screen popped up and my co-worker noted I was “all bundled up.”
Yep. I was sitting in my home office, wearing a sweater with a sweatshirt on top and a wool hat. One of the advantages of working from home is that I can control the temperature. But then I’m the one who has to make the decision that keeping the thermostat at 68 is better for my budget and the environment — or else I feel guilty.
So, here I sit all bundled up after the Georgia weather played an April Fool’s joke. First day of April, the flowers are blooming, the cars are coated with pollen and the sun is shining. April Fool’s, the high today is actually just 49!
Of course, us native Georgians know not to fall for that trick. There’s always a late cold snap — that’s why they tell you not to plant until April 15. There’s always a few who give in to temptation, but not me. That might be because I haven’t even gotten around to calling the yard guy to come mow the grass, much less actually find the time to buy plants and put them in the ground.
The weather this time of year is always a gamble. I got married March 31, and I knew it was a roll of the dice. It turned out to be perfect — couldn’t have been better, actually. The next weekend, though, was an Easter freeze.
This Easter, the weather promises to be beautiful and back up to almost 70.
Thank goodness, because I’m definitely ready for this to be the last cold snap. And egg hunts in the cold are no fun. Not that it would bother my oldest. He’s busy pretending like it’s not cold.
It warmed up enough that I told him he could wear shorts one day. He hasn’t looked back, and when my husband told him Thursday morning that the high was 52, my kid just shrugged. I was then stuffing a pair of pants in his book bag as the school bus rolled up, just in case he decided he was cold. You know he was still wearing shorts when I picked him up that afternoon.
To his bus driver and teacher, if you worry that he doesn’t have his jacket with him, it’s because he told me “it’s at school” or that he’s “not cold.” If you want to fight with him about it, be my guest. I figure if he’s cold enough, he’ll find his jacket.
Back to my cold home office, where I’m wondering if I should put a jacket on top of my sweatshirt on top of my sweater, I’m looking out the window at the sunshine recalling the days when I could take my laptop out on the deck. At some point last spring, I was having to wipe my laptop down from the pollen that coated the screen. Not yet, this year.
It’s got to be pretty warm for me to be comfortable. At least 75. If global warming doesn’t bring Florida to me, I might have to become a snowbird like my grandparents on my mom’s side. They spent winters in St. Petersburg, Fla., and summers in Gwinnett County until they finally sold the waterfront condo and stayed put in Stone Mountain. When our family of six spent a week at their Florida condo each summer as kids, I remember the old folks at the pool of their 55-plus community acting like we were little terrors having the audacity to splash and shout.
I don’t remember wondering why my grandparents migrated.
Now, I understand that if I’m miserably cold at this age, it’s sure to be that much worse when I’m older. My grandmother on my dad’s side could hardly ever keep warm, even with the heat blasting and covered by an electric heated blanket. She didn’t have a place in Florida.
Heck, maybe I should consider flying south for the winter now, given how much of my work is done remotely these days.
I’m not saying I love 90-degree weather, either, but I’m very OK with 80 degrees. Unfortunately, I don’t have a place in Florida.
But it is supposed to be back in the 70s next week, just in time for spring break. So, my kids can wear shorts and I can take off the sweatshirt.
Until then, I’m bumping the thermostat up to 70.
Shannon Casas is editor in chief of The Times and a North Hall resident.