Here in northern Illinois, we are starting our annual 3 weeks of Spring. T.S. Eliot was correct when he wrote that April is the cruelest month. Afterall, it is supposed to be Spring in April, but we usually get our last snowfall around the 10th, and if we have a day above 60 degrees, we celebrate by removing all of our clothes and running naked in the streets.
Okay, we don't run naked in the streets. But I have a list of neighbor ladies who I wish did.
Three weeks from now, it will be oppressive hot. Not for me, mind you, I spent many years in Texas, but for everyone else it will be too hot, too humid and just too much of everything.
I pride myself on not complaining about the heat. In fact, I think that accepting the heat adds to my street cred. It increases my cred when it comes to complaining about the cold, anyway.