I think the weather is broken. I'm okay with this, too, just for the record. I know my daughter now works at the ski resort and depends on a long and snowy winter for optimal employed hours, but even she is torn on the whole "should I pray for snow or rejoice that it's 60 degrees?" thing.
Because we are. We're rejoicing that it's been 60 degrees the week of Christmas. That may be a slight exaggeration, but only by a few degrees. The temp in the van said it was about 58 today, and that was fun to see. Also fun to see is Micah wearing shorts and a t-shirt everywhere he goes. No, I don't make him put on long pants or a jacket BECAUSE IT'S 60 DEGREES. I'm confused by the people in stores who obviously look at the calendar to determine how to dress instead of looking at the weather app. Or even out the window. Because that would make sense. Hello, everyone in super cute winter gear complete with hats, scarves, and heavy winter coats, aren't you hot?
Although I did wear a knit hat today, but that was only to hide my hair, which I may or may not have brushed today. I don't remember. I had more important things to do, like score next year's Christmas wrapping paper for $1 per roll, and play outside.
When Sam got home from work, he and I loaded Micah's bike up in the back of the van, grabbed half the dog pack, and hit the bike trail. Because it is 60 degrees on December 27th, and we can. It was glorious, indeed. We did make Micah don long pants and a jacket, because that 60 had cooled sufficiently as the day was waning into evening, but it was still plenty warm to enjoy the fading hours of sunlight.
If this is what winter will be like, I'll be smiling hard right through to next summer.