I’ve been coy during the more-than-a-year life of this blog about "my city" but it’s pretty obvious to those who live here that it’s Chicago, or who really cares anyway.  As we prepare to leave and move to Tennessee, I get the same question from many people: "why Tennessee?" 

Today is why. 

All this week it’s been summery, 70’s, sometimes high 60’s, which to silly Virginia-born me is barely summery and very nice.  Even though I have gained weight and have wobbly fat on my upper arms again, which makes putting on even a basic short-sleeved t-shirt into a moment of shame, I still like this weather and it seems appropriate for very late April.  There are budding trees, suddenly showing auras of that young, bright green, and there has been abundant sunshine.  All this week I’ve felt edgy, wondering how I could leave this city that I love, everything I know, for some faraway red state with huge bugs, extra racism and no Trader Joe’s?

Today.  Today is how.  Because after last night’s thunderstorm, which rained out the baseball game and was preceded by that portentous humidity that made the last few hours of packing into a sweaty miserable chore, it’s now 43 degrees with enough wind chill to make you find not just your coat but your scarf, for crying out loud.  I don’t care how long I have lived here, I am just not from around here and 43 degrees in very late April is just wrong. 

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