The alert chime sounded, three times. Not three times more important; rather, an admission that we pay attention to weather forecasts from mulitple regions. In this case, a warning that snow flurries could be expected. Not everything is a hurricane, here in the real world.
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And with age, comes wisdom. Or experience, at least. This next anecdote is offered third hand. As in, I wasn’t there, but I heard from someone else.
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There it is! A forecast of iffy weather, with a lot of rain. Meanwhile, just across the way (the water), a promise of a full blown snow storm, with high winds and enough snow to require assistance. So, what will it be? The stretch of open water may be insufficient to stop the snow swirl. Only a couple of days to go. Best get in some bread and milk, just in case.
Read the rest of this entry »posted in economy, Wx | Comments Off on Your price is going (up) | 259 words
When the analysis arm of the media tells us that things are probably going to get wort (all topics confounded), we know they are playing “crystal ball:. No big deal. What scares me is when they add details to the back story that show how poor we really are at planning.
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In the dark, we look for the worst. Last evening, as the sun went down, the wind arose. And it blew, all night long. Removed any possibility of getting any rest, as the worst was visualized. Would we lose shingles, or siding? Would the compost bin get agitated and dumped in the lane? What about monsters? In the morning, none of those things were realized. All was calm; bright, even. I did check the wind gauge, and it wasn’t a hurricane. The bridge was still in place, even if “high sided rigs” were parked in a sense of false security. It was just another moment in autumn.
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My holiday period is about to start, but it feels very much like the end of summer. School is open. Our visitors are (probably) done with us until next year. It feels chilly, if you are obliged to wait outside for even a few minutes (think fast food orders at a take-out window).
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I guess that watering the lawn would be superfluous, today. We’ve had a full fifty mm of rain since midnight, and it continues. Along with some wind, as the tail end of H. Ida runs out of purpose, right here. We plan to camp (glamp?) for the weekend, but things should be dryer by then.
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Summer on the Island. Everybody goes to the beach (present company excepted). It’s expected, and it’s fun, if you thrive on sun and sand. Even the dogs go along with the game.
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A year ago, the idea of getting some conditioning for our house air. We went ahead, because comfort is better than money in the bank, right? Not a big system; one chiller, centrally located. And now, as the temperatures have moved into the “look, it’s summer” stage, I am content with the comfort. In fact, if anyone asks, I feel like this is how I was meant to live.
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Once upon a time, I was trained to watch the weather. No joke. Several months of intense classroom and lab time, under the leadership of Norm, the met tech. And his favourite reporting term was “visby verbil”, which was the teletype shorthand for rapidly changing observation distance. As in, now you see it, now you don’t.
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