Tuesday, April 29, 2008

April is the Cruelest Month

T.S. Eliot was right: “April is the cruelest month.” But not necessarily for the reasons he cites: “breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.” Rather, I find the month to be cruel in the fickleness of its weather, not to mention tiresome in its inability for nuance. It just clobbers you over the head with its moods. No subtlety or consistency.

A few times this month, temps were in the 60s and 70s, but over the last few days, conditions have adopted a less friendly demeanor--cloudy, rainy, and cold. Yesterday was just miserable, with a veritable deluge soaking us for hours. And even though the sun is poking through as I write this at midday, the temperature, according to, is 49 degrees but feels like 42 with the wind chill. With an eye towards saving on utility bills, I turned off my heat a few weeks ago. It seemed like a good idea at the time, when the days were growing warmer, and the promise of spring was in the air. Today, however, it’s 58 degrees in the house, and my fingers are stiff as I type this. I’ve opened the blinds to let in the sunlight for some passive solar heating, but I almost can’t wait until things warm up. After all, I can put on only so many sweaters and drink only so much coffee.

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