Alright, everyone seems to have their own definition of what "cold" is when it comes to temperature, but it all boils down to "uncomfortable" in the end right?
In early fall, 60° is cold. In early spring, 60° is beautiful, wonderful and a gift from God. I prefer my rooms 72° but hate high bills, so settle for 68° in winter... Then again, I have a space heater at my feet and three cats, so I'm not hurting any.
But "cold" is a matter of perception. Amongst the ladies I sing with, we have one perpetually cold and one perpetually hot. Getting those two comfortable in the same room is a feat of layers, not climate control. My friend the Tropical Norwegian is so spoiled by his years in SoCal* that if it's less than room** temperature outside, he thinks it's cold. I remember the same complaint from friends who grew up in San Diego as we walked along the beach in Santa Barbara. I'd just come from the northern reaches of Illinois, where it was cold 6 months of the year, so strolling along the beach at a balmy 63° in early December was bliss! I didn't even wear a jacket. Jen & Jenn (the San Diego girls) were bundled up in the warmest thing they owned--a sweatshirt. Thankfully, I had some other Bay Area ladies to back me up in the "This isn't cold, it's lovely!" camp.
They also didn't really own anything warmer than a lined windbreaker when it came to coats, and why should they? That part of the state has totally civilized winters--wet and green. Unlike the 4 months of grey, sunless days and bleak starless nights to be found in Chicagoland, bracketed by a month on either side of can't-make-up-my-mind weather where you start off running the heater on the way to work, only to switch to AC on your lunch break... sounds a bit like Dallas actually.
Me, I could live just fine in a place where the yearly low was in the 40s and the highs in the 80s. That sounds brilliant to me. I might actually spend more time out of doors if I lived in a place like that, but probably not since I still pink instead of tan, and every biting, blood-sucking bug in the known universe seems to think I'm tastier than 98% of the other humans on the planet. Since I don't live in one of those places, I've grown very comfortable being indoors. Or with sweating and sipping Juleps. And wearing wool.
Anyway, I'm talking about weather, so you know my brain is stretched thin and mostly out of substance. Resorting to small talk here... I should go be productive. It is Christmas Eve Eve after all. Maybe I should wrap gifts of bake cookies...
*I hate calling it that... I kind of have a "thing" against most of Southern California just on principal... or lack of experience and a giant chip (with fish) on my shoulders about never getting to go to Disneyland, so even though I was conceived in (North) Hollywood, I'm still a San Francisco girl, and no, not NoCal, because that's what trendy weight watchers call diet sodas...
**Given the lovely women he chose to marry, that's about 70° I think