My mom called me a few days ago to check in, and as always we had to share a good laugh about the weather. It’s been a few years since my parents move to the other end of the east coast, and its a constant joke of how long it will take me to follow in their footsteps. New England weather is legendary among those who live here as being the most unpredictable thing on the face of the earth. Our weather forecasters are almost always wrong, especially in the fall and winter, and no one even gets mad at them for it. Folks who live here just sort of shrug and go, “That’s fair.” Last week alone, we went from 90 degrees, to three days of 59 degrees and rain, to 80 degrees by Sunday again. The weather dropped over 30 degrees in one night. It was the first week of September, and already my roommates had to turn on the heat to stay warm at night. Thanks to the rain, the cool air was that damp chill that gets in your bones and doesn’t quit. I couldn’t believe I had to turn my oil furnace on, while my mom was still running her central air conditioner in 88 degree weather. She laughed that she did not miss New England one bit, because those sudden spikes and falls and temperature got her sick all the time. Sure enough, now I’m getting a cold, and I need to reschedule my HVAC appointment. It’s going to be 89 tomorrow, so my roommates don’t want to shut down the central AC just yet.