And thank god. If we’d stayed back east any longer, my fingers were going to need to be amputated from frostbite and I wouldn’t be able to write this blog any more. REALLY. And my nose, too. And my ears. And my toes. Even though I packed my WARMEST socks, dammit.
Gimme a couple days to process all our photos and I’ll have the whole story of our frozen inauguration weekend adventure in DC with Little Sis, followed by our frozen Auto Show week adventure in Detroit with the rest of the fam. For now, though, just try to imagine how happy we were to return home today under a cloudless blue sky in 54 degrees after LEAVING THIS BEHIND IN DETROIT:
It was 9. 9 DEGREES. I will never complain about our Bay Area weather again.
And yes, I was raised in 9-degree winters–lived almost 30 years in them–but apparently after seven years of carefully avoiding home between January and April, California has officially made me soft. It happened!
Sorry, my hearty Midwestern friends, but Michigan in January now makes me cry. Literally. The wind on this trip made my forehead hurt so bad that I CRIED. Pansy-ass Californian tears. Multiple times. And they froze on my windburned cheeks and I had to chisel them off with my frozen fingers inside my useless-but-adorable fluffy white mittens.
So yeah, later this week, I’ll regale you with more tales of what a disappointment I am to my fellow North Countrymen, I’m sure. And also how I saw Al Roker on inauguration day.