On Friday afternoon, I played my first 9 holes of 2013. I wore shorts and a polo shirt on the sunny, 64-degree day.
By Saturday afternoon, it was about 30 degrees colder. It was flurrying when Roberta and I went into the grocery store to buy a few items. When we finished about 15 minutes later, the snow was falling fast, in huge, wet flakes.
A few hours later, there was an inch or two of snow on the ground. The kids next door, who had seen snow only a couple of times in their lives, were outside playing. Roberta and Simmie joined them, with my wife building a snowman and the puppy running around enjoying the first measurable snow of her young life.
See? Just when I started missing Chicago a little bit, it came to visit me.