Every cold weekend is a weekend keeping me out of the yard. I’m rather 
with that.
It’s evidently The March of the Penguins
100 degrees cooled off by rain is pretty much equivalent to “sauna” and quite similar to late spring in Texas.
I will help pit March, but not just for this squelchy, lukewarm weather. Even if the rain feels like sprinkling pee, at least we’re getting out of this blasted drought and our river has water again.
My pit is for March hacking and coughing. March colds and bronchitis. March shortness of breath and soreness. March is the month where my allergies take a break to give me a real live disease instead.
April, by contrast, is the month where the allergies turn back on and my eyes are so crusted over I can’t open them in the morning. 
You must be over by the coast or even in the Dallas area, East Texas. Where I grew up in West Texas, humidity was never a problem. I could really feel the difference whenever I ventured over to the other side of the state. May was the pleasantest time of year.
May’s awful nice where I am now.
Springtime was not as awful as summertime in the Coastal Bend, though. No wind, no air, but clouds of mosquitoes following me home on my two mile walk.