It’s freezing out here! Literally.

Last night, for the second night in a row, temperatures dipped into the upper 20s. Snow flurries were reported in El Cajon and other parts of the we’ve-never-seen-snow-before sections of San Diego County three days ago.

My garden sprinklers went off at 4 am today, and by 6:15 when I left for work, the sidewalk was coated in a bubbly sheet of ice. My plants? Well, they looked like I employed the same tactics as the citrus growers.

Tonight, my garden is full of little ghosts. Sheets and towels cover everything that proved itself not hardy enough for sub-freezing nights. These ghosts are almost symbolic of the loss of life I fear in my beloved gardens.

It feels silly to say I’m attached to a plant, but I am a sentimental person and many of my plants have sentimental meaning. Like the pot-bound, waterlogged Jade we rescued from the back yard. It was finally making a comeback.

And the Aeonium clipping from our last home that had grown (exponentially) into a mounded knee-high pile of green. Today, they look like a pile of cooked collards. Or the Costa Rican sage my mother and I planted just last summer to cover the ugly shed in the back yard. It had reached a proud 4 feet and was a nice distraction from the rusting, faded, metal building. Today it is just a stalk of withered leaves.

And, the Giant Bird of Paradise Chris lovingly bought me to soothe my disappointment after someone stole mine right out of the garden of our last home. Now, the black-brown leaves drooping from the stalk look more like a vulture warming itself in the desert. The list goes on, and so does the cold.

I covered everything I thought couldn’t take it another night, and I apologized to the rest. I hope my little symbolic ghosts turn out to be just that…symbolic. In the mean time, Holly and I have snuggled in for a long winter’s night. San Diego-style.

Super Bowl XXXVII: Raiders vs. Buccaneers

On my walk into work each morning for the past week, I have watched the progression of "Super City" sprout from parking lots, the back of trailers, and seemingly nowhere. Old beer umbrellas on sidewalk cafes have silently been replaced with new ones, fresh flowers have been planted, buffet tables set up, shuttle vans appear in front of hotels, and a dirt construction lot paved, fenced, and converted into the NFL Experience. The parking lot I cut through to get to work each day has been fenced off. There's a big, brown, puffy, air-filled XBox tent; food and drink stands; and a giant stage in there now.

The streets of the Gaslamp District are teaming with life...fans, residents, news media, football stars, football families, bright lights, signs, and T-shirt shops. Without exaggeration, every store (in the 8-block walk between my parking garage and work) that normally sells anything other than food has moved their normal inventory aside to make room for Super Bowl XXXVII, Raiders, and Buccaneers T-shirts, ball caps, tank tops, sweat shirts, sweaters, jackets, shot glasses, beads, posters, mugs, stuffed bears, footballs, bumper stickers, and flags. This even includes the wig shop, an art gallery, and a few previously-boarded up warehouses. The "Wine Bank" has resisted the T-shirt frenzy, although they have moved their champagne up front! Le Travel Store is not participating in the Roman numeral sell-a-thon, except that we have moved our "Raiders map of Oakland" and a Tampa guidebook up front to show our support.

Downtown San Diego is looking her best. The sidewalks have been steam-cleaned, manhole covers painted, Raider- and Buccaneer-colored balloons decorate bars and restaurants, and the Marriott --down by the bay-- is sporting a 30-floor banner welcoming the Super Bowl to San Diego. Bright halogen lamps dance blue, green, yellow, and white lights across the sky at night; and the main street of the Gaslamp District, Fifth Avenue, has large white gates every block with directions to beer, food, festivities, and, of course, a list of corporate sponsors.

And that's only a 16-block section of the city --and a few out-lying parking lots. The Bud Bowl (what would football be without the Bud Bowl!) is bringing food, music, and, of course, beer to the beach areas; and the stadium has had it's own hectic schedule of meet-the-press --and, probably a little football.

There is a HUGE fireworks show scheduled for Saturday night. The promoters haven't (yet) called it the biggest one on earth --ever, but they are letting us know to expect a dazzling show. They'll be setting the fireworks off for 30 minutes from barges in the bay --I guess they figured the smoke wouldn't clear by kick off Sunday, if they did it any closer to the stadium! We have dinner reservations with friends from out of town at a restaurant on the waterfront. We're hoping for a front row seat to the show.

As for the whole reason for this hoopla (oh yeah, the game!), may your team win (since our team didn't make it), and may all the commercials be worth the wait.

Happy Football!