Surviving the California Winter

Good day, gentle reader. If it's not obvious by now, then let me make it clear that this blog doesn't take itself too seriously. Sorry UK dwellers, but surviving the California winter is really no effort at all.

Winter days here take two forms: it's either clear, in which case it starts chilly (2-4 degrees C), but gets pleasantly mild during the day (13-15 degrees C), or alternatively it's cloudy, in which case it starts warmer (8-9 degrees C), then gets pleasantly mild during the day (13-15 degrees C). Once a week it might rain a bit. There is no biting wind, no trees down, no storms to speak of. It's almost never grey and miserable. Yet if all you did was consume your weather news through the TV, you'd think we were on the brink of some weather-related disaster.

For example, on Thursday, what passes for a storm in the Bay Area came through. This means it rained fairly hard for about 45 minutes, and it was cold enough up on top of the mountains to leave a bit of snow. However even the forecast of this was enough to make a special report on morning TV, with its own logo and backed by ominous minor key music. By then it was already raining in the North Bay and, given the dire warnings, it was all I could do to stop myself boarding up the windows in a panic.

Look, snow on the mountains! (Taken from the roof garden at work)

The winter weather here just is not severe and the idea that you need to panic about it is hilarious to me. The coldest it gets is #itsabitnippy and it looks like the Crombie will stay in the cupboard this year (although I'm going to Zurich next week, for which it might make an appearance - I think I'll start calling it my European coat).

The second bit of local excitement is related to sport. The local football franchise, San Francisco 49ers (who actually play in a stadium on the outskirts of San Jose), are in the end of season playoffs. Nope, I don't really know what that means either, but you know what knockout sporting competitions mean? WALLCHARTS!

So first up, they don't even call this a wallchart here. It's called a bracket. As you can see, the more diligent member of the household has filled out the bracket.

American football is arranged into two separate leagues, known as conferences, and they each run their own playoff games in parallel. So, tomorrow, we have the final playoff game of each conference, where the 49ers face the Green Bay Packers to find out who'll go to the Superb Owl. At least, that's what I think it's called.

As I've said before, the Bay Area is something of a bubble, and not one that cares that much about sport by normal American standards. That means interest levels are still high - stories like the local basketball team, Golden State Warriors, losing their star player Steph Curry to a broken hand were in the news for days (side note: I did actually watch a Warriors game before Curry got injured, and he did seem to be basically carrying the rest of the team, so perhaps it's no surprise), and there was almost a day of mourning when it was announced that Giants baseball star Madison Bumgarner had signed for the Diamondbacks (whatever that means) - but at the same time, the interest level only really ratchets up when there's a chance of winning something.

Come 3:30pm tomorrow we'll be holed up on the sofa, watching the 49ers, drinking beer and eating chips, just like normal Americans. We'll pretend to understand what we're seeing, and who knows, we might even get to the Superb Owl.