On the way to work today at 8:30, the bank said it was 50. Spitting rain. On the way home, 55, spitting rain. Snow in the Cascades down to 2500 feet. Been like this for weeks. When the sun breaks and the mercury tips 60 (whoo hoo, 62!), we race out to trim the grass before the next squall blows in. I'm as delighted to live in this wet wonderland as the next guy, but man, even I have my limits.
[Update: high of 56 in Portland today; a record low.]
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