Today I saw something I’ve never seen in Oakland before: a frozen puddle. It has been cold—frigid, by our standards—in Northern California lately. Frost happens here occasionally, and once I even saw it snow (very briefly, while I was standing in line to get into a Victorian mansion decorated for Christmas) but I’ve never seen a puddle of ice in the East Bay. Certainly not at 11 in the morning, under bright sun.
I don’t mind; this is what January is supposed to be like, as far as I’m concerned. I’ve never gotten used to the idea that when the newspaper issues dire warnings about winter “storms,” they’re just talking about rain. So it’s almost a relief to me when January does something I expect it to do.
Pipi on the other hand, is very concerned. For one thing, she’s from Los Angeles, so she has different ideas about what appropriate winter weather is. But she’s also a woman of food enthusiasms, and right now, it’s oranges. She can’t get enough, and we just read that the California orange crop is endangered. So I guess I should pause to give a thought to the citrus growers of the state, who probably don’t think frozen puddles are as charming as I do.
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