A couple weeks ago the TV broadcasters were in a near panic - if you believed them - about winter arriving in Arizona last weekend. OMG! It was going to drop to the 60's for highs in the valley!
We recovering Minnesotans, now become snowbirds, gave them the mocking they deserved, of course.
It did drop temps, and we heard of snowfall around Flagstaff. Actually, here they project snow by altitude, so much over 5000 feet, so much over 7000. Steve and I simply switched to long pants and sleeves, perhaps a sweatshirt for the evening hours, as I still have refused to turn on the heat in the house. (Or AC for that matter, as 91 is relatively comfy and open windows cool the house quickly.)
I can now safely say I have seen my snow for the season, as in enough of the white to eliminate any hint of homesickness. I caught a run to Flagstaff yesterday, seeing a trace of the white on a couple of north slopes outside of town. Yep, that was enough.
Of course I was in a great mood, having caught a decent run at last. Topping it off, when I returned I caught another run, this time to Tucson. Nevermind hunting a place in the dark that is so low-profile they don't put their name on the building and their number is tiny and unlit. It was due at 6:31 and I hit it at 6:33 - not bad for hitting the choke points in Phoenix on the way. Speed limits were 75 heading south, and 10 expanded through the area to 3 lanes, enough that those wishing to go 75 can actually do so.
I returned home to find supper waiting, bless Steve, and a mere 623 miles more on the car than when I started the day.
My kind of day!