I’m pretty sure my state is insane.
We endure below zero temperatures for a good portion of the winter. We’ve been pretty lucky in the snowstorm department, but it doesn’t mean we don’t still get our fare share of the white stuff. Cars don’t start, the lake (yes, Lake Michigan) freezes almost completely over from time to time (read: the last two winters), and they don’t even bother to plow the roads because they know more snow is on the way.
Then “spring” comes. Notice the quotation marks. You see, in most of the state, spring is beautiful. Warm and sunny, a few showers here and there to help the flowers grow. You can go outside without a jacket and perhaps even wear sandals.
But you see, we live two miles from the lake. The same lake that freezes in the winter. The same lake that’s water doesn’t get above 40 degrees before June. Because of said lake, we’re lucky if we get above 45 before May. It creates fog so thick you can’t see and a lake breeze that makes you wonder why the hell you live so close to Lake Michigan in the first place.
Go inland, and it’s like another planet. It can be 40 and foggy at our house, and 70 and sunny less than ten miles away. Our garden has failed to grow almost every year because we can’t trust it not to freeze over and kill the plants. The Sun is a rare sight.
(Let me take a moment to talk about Brewers’ opening day and how we all thank the Universe that Miller Park has a roof. There has actually been the threat of snow on several occasions. Think about that–Opening Day is usually April 6th. Snow. In April. May 17th is the record.)
Fast forward to today, June 11th. Yesterday it was 80 degrees and humid. We figured summer had finally arrived. Tank tops and shorts came out, the windows were open and I was actually hot sitting in the house. It was wonderful.
And then the front came through.
And Lake Michigan decided to be an asshole again.
As I write this, I’m wearing fleece pajamas and am snuggled under a flannel blanket. It’s pouring rain and it’s 52 degrees. Only in Wisconsin can you go from 80 to 50 in less than 24 hours.
Wisconsin: Where Mother Nature goes to get hammered.