Seventy-five Degrees of Separation

I woke up yesterday in Los Angeles, and the daily high temperature there was to be about 71 degrees.  I woke up today at home, and the temperature was -4 degrees.  I’ve lived here all my life, and until recently never considered seeking residency in another part of the country.  My husband is an electrician and works outdoors year-round.  Shortly after our son’s diagnosis, my hubby suggested moving somewhere warm.  I felt certain it had more to do with his having worked outdoors in this bleak, dark midwinter one wake-up too many than it did with our son’s medical condition, but now I am wondering a bit.  My husband was more serious than I have ever known him to be about this issue, and I’m starting to see potential here.

My best friend, she of my last two posts, currently resides in southern California.  Prior to Cali, she’s lived all over the country.  Her husband is a retired Air Force officer, and as such, he and their family were reassigned and moved at the military’s discretion.  I always admired that willingness? (scratch that–maybe not exactly willingness every time) ability? to relocate.  During my stay, I met friends of my friend who are relocating to Japan for approximately one year.  Their children are in middle and high school, and though not all of their children are ecstatic about this move, they’re going.  I’ve been thinking much about this since Saturday.  I’ve been imagining what it would be like not to be so cold that my fingers become waxy and discolored every day it’s below 30 degrees.  I dream of not being so cold that my hips and face hurt from the bitter sting of winter.  I’m entirely too young to be a snowbird.  Too young to give up the bricks and mortar for an RV, but not so young that warmer climes are positively out of the question.  Swimming, biking and walking are pretty much the only activities my kid can do.  He can’t do them here in the middle of winter.  No joke–he can’t.  But he could in a more moderate climate.

There are speech-language pathologists across the US and Canada.  I’ve been joking (ummm, sorta joking) that I’m heading for the northern border if our nation supports and elects a certain political candidate for its presidency.  But for the weather, Toronto would be in the lead (obviously!), but today the Pacific Coast is my pretend new Canadian home.  People talk everywhere, people need electricity everywhere–we could find work just about anywhere (she dreams short-sightedly and optimistically. . .).  A month ago, we’d not have given thoughtful consideration to moving somewhere warm (I KNOW–Canada’s not warm).  Honestly, we’d have given it no consideration.  A month isn’t that long a period of time.  Or is it?