WHAT A DIFFERENCE A WEEK MAKES

What a difference a week makes.

Last week -- warm enough outside to wear a fleece vest over a long sleeve shirt.  This week -- cold enough to require thermal socks and a winter coat.  Last week -- I consider unpacking the kayak (I don't).  This week -- boots and snow brushes.  One day we have two seasons at once -- forty degrees and a thunderstorm.

Today at work I am madly figuring the students' term-end grades.  I am about two minutes from finishing and submitting everything via the computer, and I am intent on getting this all done and having it off my plate before the weekend.

My roommate enters (she shares my room for two periods a day when I don't actively have students here), and she says, "How about this weather?"

Huh?  Is it sunny?  Is it raining? 

Despite having three enormous windows in my classroom, I have looked at nothing but my grade book, the computer screen, and the top of my desk for the last hour or so.  Apparently my dumbfounded expression gives me away, and my roomie shakes her head sideways, prompting me to glance to my left.

It's snowing.  And it's not just snowing gently or in fluffy big flakes, it's snowing sideways at a decent clip.  This is a classic sign that it has been coming down for a while.  I look at the cars parked out front and realize that this is no passing squall.

When I leave work over an hour later, the cars need some brushing and defrosting, and the snowflakes are falling at a rate that urges me to drive straight home and park safely in my driveway.  Of course, a few hours later, as dusk sets in, the snow has ceased, and much of it has dissipated.  My son, who works in an office without windows, didn't see a thing.

Amazing.

What a difference a week makes ... or even a couple of days, even hours.  Come on, Arctic air, give it your best shot.  You cannot hang on forever, you know.  Eventually spring really will arrive.  Until then, I'll keep both the coat and the fleece vest handy.