Today feels like spring. Obviously it’s not actually spring as we’re still in January, which is almost the definition of midwinter. But after the cold cold weather of last week, the ice has melted, the flowers are pushing their way through the earth. There’s a mildness, a lightness that at the very least presages spring even if next month sees us plunged into below zero temperatures once more. That’s below zero centigrade, not Fahrenheit. I can convert two temperatures with confidence from centigrade to Fahrenheit, and neither is freezing point. One is 16C which equals 61F. The other is 28C which equals 82F. You can probably work out how I remember them both. When I was a child, I think talking temperatures in Fahrenheit was the norm. Certainly if you were ill and a thermometer was popped under your tongue it was read in Fahrenheit. I’m still not sure what normal is in centigrade, so perhaps it’s a good thing I haven’t felt the need to take my temperature for a while.
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Isobel (and Cat)'s Blog 