Before I moved to the mountains, I didn't know what cold was. (People who live in places such as Boston might say that I still don't know, and they may be right.) When I was studying Spanish, I learned that the phrase hace fresca meant "it is cool." What struck me as odd, being a southern Californian, was that "cool" went all the way down to about forty degrees in Spanish. To me, that was downright frigid. Then I came here. Brrr. Tonight, it is a bit below forty, and I'd say that five degrees higher would be cool. I guess I've acclimated. I don't think that I will ever learn to love the cold weather, but at least I can now enjoy those cool nights which once made me shiver. In fact, I find them invigorating- as long as I can go back into the warm house after a few minutes.