For once, let’s put all the complaints on hold.
This is my frost-covered lawn:
This is my (suddenly losing its leaves all at once) fig tree:
This is my (now dead) eggplant:
So while I grant that San Diego does have the possibility of eighty degrees at any time of year, I would also like to point out that it can also regularly be forty or lower at night through the winter. Yes, winter. Because if my kid’s slide can be covered in a quarter inch of ice, I can call it winter. Sure, it’s not the copious amounts of snow that my sisteris enjoying, but it’s enough to feel Christmasy when you’re a thin-skinned California girl.