Once upon a time, at that same old castle that I’m always bringing up, my roommate (MM from NH) and I were getting ready to go on a field trip on a sunny September day. We asked our friend HP (not to be confused with Harry Potter, although they are both magical) from Canada-land what the weather was outside so we could dress accordingly.
She reported that it was 25 degrees.
We were a bit confused by this, since we could see the sun and the snow-free grass outside, and it was September in England, but we shrugged, pulled on our long johns, added a few sweaters, and grabbed our coats.
As we stepped outside to accompany HP to the dining hall, we realized that in fact it was a balmy fall day.
So we asked her why she had lied like that.
She laughed at our (American!) ignorance and pointed out that 25C is actually really nice (77F) and could we please stop screaming in her face and pointing in outrage to our (heavy) coats and multiple (very warm) layers that would be joining us on our (walking) field trip.
That was only the beginning of our learning curve for First Year.