The sun was shining. The sun was shining! What a glorious day. On our way home from the library the thermometer in the car was reading 35 degrees and the sun was warm so instead of shutting the garage door and running for the shelter of the house when we got home we donned sun glasses and pulled out some of outdoor toys for a while. And as I sat there on the cold driveway, the chill from the cement seeping into my three decades old bones, I started to think about those 35 degrees. In November, when the winter is first descending upon us, 35 degrees is awfully chilly—it's when we first break out the winter coats and dig deep in the closet for that other mitten we're sure was there last year—but in February, after three long months of blustery days and usually absent sun, 35 degrees is a heat wave, and has us breaking out the summer toys and sitting outside to play, only to find that, 35 degrees is still actually chilly.
