It's May and its still cold outside.
OK, I know you're saying "man-up." But the chill in the air still sends my goose pimples to Himalayan proportions. The bright sun gives the illusion of spring warmth yet my numb fingertips and a blowing northerly wind tell my brain otherwise.
The spring/summer transition around here is as fickle as a New England snowstorm. I know that I'll have to cut through the sizzling heat and oppressive humidity around here in another six weeks or so with a sharp sword that Zorro couldn't even master.
Pardon me while I throw on another gas jet or two on the artificial fireplace logs.