One reason I live in and love the South? I dislike cold weather. I have wonderful childhood memories of playing outside on Christmas Day with toys I got from Santa Claus. And adult memories of grocery shopping in December in shorts. On the other hand, I remember the blizzard of March 1993. A real fluke. Thunder snow in drifts of a foot or more through central Alabama that year. The most snow I'd seen before that—other than on Christmas cards—was four inches.
Of course, whenever snow is forecast, everyone panics and the supermarkets run out of milk and bread. If you don't have four-wheel-drive, you'd best just stay home and have peanut butter sandwiches and milk for several meals. We're not the best drivers in winter weather down here.
One February I spoke by phone to a friend, a native Southerner who relocated near Chicago. It was another mild winter in Dixie and, knowing his dislike of cold, I couldn't resist a jab. "Have you plowed your garden spot yet?" I asked him, smirking.
"Oh, what a cruel beast you are!" The mercury, he said, had not risen above 20 degrees there for days.
This year I think the thaw has come early everywhere. Our peach trees and crab apples have finished blooming. Our birch tree has leafed. Our blueberry bushes are loaded—if a late frost doesn't get them.
It's sunny and 77! What's it like where you are?