Column by Kay Frances

“If you don’t like the weather in Ohio, just wait an hour and it’ll change!”

If you live in Ohio or know someone who does, you’ve no doubt heard this oft-repeated expression. At no time is this old adage truer than when we are in the midst of the Changing of the Seasons. Much like the way that basketball, baseball and football seasons intersect for weeks on end, the transition from one weather season to the next can be slow, painful and muddy.

Spring starts to tease us sometime around mid-February. We get that one day when the furnace actually stops for a few hours, the sun shines for the first time in months and people rush out to get their cars washed. When the temperatures take the predictable nosedive, I’m always amazed at how surprised people are. “What?? I thought it was SPRING!” You have to remind them of where they live. “Just wait an hour …”

Some people allow their well-being to rise and fall with the weather conditions. They would be wise to move someplace where the weather is more predictable, like say, the surface of the sun. And we should all keep a wide berth from the people who have asked us for the 100th time, “Is it cold/hot/rainy enough for ya?”

The weather continues its little tap dance up and down the thermometer until about mid-June. Even then, I still wonder if I can safely put away the snow shovels and boots. I know that as soon as I do, we’ll get hit with a blizzard. Much like how it rains the minute you finish washing your car.

Every spring — after months of hibernating — I stick my head outside and take the first look at my yard since November. Much like Punxsutawney Phil, I quickly duck back inside, predicting that I’m not going to want to deal with the winter aftermath for at least six more weeks. The yard is littered with sticks, shingles from roofs 20 miles away, pages from a newspaper dated 1993 and unidentifiable plastic items. “CSI Ohio” would have a field day analyzing the junk strewn about my yard. It would likely help solve a half a dozen cold cases.

You hear rumors of faraway places with “perfect weather” like San Diego, where every day is 72 degrees, year ‘round. Conversely, on the opposite side of the spectrum is Minnesota which has about three days of summer before plunging right back into winter. So, as with everything in life, there are those who have it better and those who have it worse.

I think I’ll stick with Ohio, even if there are times when I put on flip-flops, galoshes and hip boots all in the same day. Sometimes I do it because of the weather, and sometimes it’s just fun to change my footwear. Hey, I have to do something to while away those long, cold winter months! And I like variety. Maybe that’s why I like Ohio. And the times when I don’t, I tell myself, “Just wait an hour and it’ll change!”

And it always does.

Salt Magazine

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