Last week for 3 days in a row the mercury fell to 12 degrees Celcius. For you Americans and Brits out there, that is 56 degrees Fahrenheit. For you non-Israelis out there, in Israel, this is simply cold.

When I was growing up there were many summers where the temperature never reached 75 degrees F. Of course, I was a different person then, and all it took was the slightest sign that the sun was trying to burst through the clouds, and we would all run home and put on our shorts ... and a ski sweater. We were desperate. Not stupid.

Since I grew up on the ocean's coast I just assumed that this was what summer was like in Canada. Years later, when I moved to Toronto, I found out exactly how misinformed I was. After 18 years without air conditioning -- who the heck needed air conditioning? -- I went to live in a city where one couldn't sleep without AC for a good three weeks every summer.

Actually, there was the one summer that I spent in Israel when I was 17. The day we arrived for our seven-week summer program it was 104 degrees F. I had no idea that such a temperature existed outside of the oven. Although everyone was speaking hebrew and I had no idea what was going on, the one thing I remember from my first week of the trip was that someone fried an egg on the street or on the hood of someone's car. Yes, it was that hot and I suffered. (I will spare you the details of my symptoms. Those of you who were there with me will remember and the rest of you don't need to know.)

Back to Toronto -- the place I lived when I bought my first air conditioner. Best $350 I ever spent. I sold it 16 years later for $100. Inflation was on my side.

So then we moved to Israel in the middle of August. Without going into detail, suffice it to say that I had no idea that I had so much excess fluid in my body until I started changing my clothes three times a day out of sheer necessity. Even antiperspirant didn't stand a chance for more than three hours.

I was so hot, so much, so long, that I prayed for winter. And this is yet another reminder of why one should be careful for what one prays for ... YOU MIGHT ACTUALLY GET IT.

Winter is Israel is nothing like winter in Nova Scotia, Toronto, Hamilton, or Syracuse (all the other places that I have lived long enough to comment on the weather). Originally I thought that everyone wearing a sweater when the temperature dropped to 18 degrees C was a wuss. Ha. I can be very stupid myself sometimes.

I was wrong. Period. There is no snow here. This is good. There is lots of sun. This is also good. But there is a dampness in the air that gets into your bones and because, generally speaking, houses do not have insulation, it is often warmer outside than it is inside. Particularly in older houses that aren't well constructed.

I spent many a winter afternoon sitting in my car reading the newspaper because at least there, the sun was beating down on the windshield and warming up the car. AT least I could read my newspaper in comfort in my mobile "den".

Eight winters later, I am less tolerant of the cold than ever. I dread having to travel to Canada in the winter because I might have to leave the protection of my mother's condo at some point. Once, during a winter visit, I went for a walk with my father. It was only five degrees C. below zero -- I complained the entire way and my father just kept laughing. By his standards it was a beautiful winter day. I almost fainted when it was time for the return trip.

Frankly, I find Canada too cold in May. By May I have been out of shoes and into sandals for a few weeks already. Maybe longer. I have probably been to the beach. And having to dig up a pair of pantyhose to wear is too horrific for words.

So here I sit. 12 degrees C outside and I am bundled up to my neck in several layers of clothing. Thanks to my husband's foresight, our house is warm, but even here I have to leave it now and then. If you saw me you would think that I was headed to the North Pole for a mini-expedition, when in fact, I am just preparing for my walk to the corner store.