Clan Evil is headed to the Big Apple this weekend to watch Our Very Own Tonks sing with her school choir at Carnegie Hall. This is such an exciting opportunity for her, and she left today with the other 75 members. The remaining Evil Family members take off tomorrow on a 1:00 p.m. flight, so we are closing up the castle for a few days.
It's time to leave the horrible weather we've been having here. It got pretty warm over last weekend, with highs in the 40s, teasing us with the prospect that winter might actually be over for the year. HA! Because then we had two solid days of hazy grayness, followed by a freezing of all the slush generated by the warmer days, capped by snow. And bitter cold. Again.
It's pretty disheartening to drive the kids to school when the temperature is -4, with a predicted high of 10. I've literally gotten the inside of my nostrils frozen, which is a painful as it sounds.
Even if NYC isn't by any stretch of the imagination tropical, at least is it different. We fly back on Monday, and then back out on Tuesday to Palm Springs. Which I am really looking forward to, because I am TIRED of being COLD.
Showing posts with label weather. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weather. Show all posts
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
Bitch Gets Served
Man, I gotta be careful what I grouse about. I posted this series of complaints (poetic, yes, but still complaining), took a shower and came out to near white-out conditions. It's like God said, "You complaining about monochrome? I'll GIVE you monochrome." The snow had been drifting down like someone sifting flour, but 20 minutes later, it was filling the air nearly solid.
It was so snowy that even the dog--who usually is willing to go as many more blocks as he can get away with--didn't make it all the way around one. Tonks and Sursels remember only one snow day in the 10 years of attending their school, and school closed early.
Driving to pick them up, the snow was so heavy that I could see maybe 200 feet in front of me--that means that I couldn't even see traffic lights until I was 4 houses away from the intersections. At least one car got stuck on the piled up snow IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET. I watched an SUV fishtail its way around a left turn and nearly end up facing the direction it came from. That weather was nasty!
So today? Brilliant cloudless blue sky. Light so bright you might be fooled into thinking it's summer already. A good 5 inches of snow, which even now is starting to melt off the roofs.
It was so snowy that even the dog--who usually is willing to go as many more blocks as he can get away with--didn't make it all the way around one. Tonks and Sursels remember only one snow day in the 10 years of attending their school, and school closed early.
Driving to pick them up, the snow was so heavy that I could see maybe 200 feet in front of me--that means that I couldn't even see traffic lights until I was 4 houses away from the intersections. At least one car got stuck on the piled up snow IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET. I watched an SUV fishtail its way around a left turn and nearly end up facing the direction it came from. That weather was nasty!
So today? Brilliant cloudless blue sky. Light so bright you might be fooled into thinking it's summer already. A good 5 inches of snow, which even now is starting to melt off the roofs.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Weather Report--Snow, Dammit.
Can I just say that this freeze and thaw cycle we having going here is playing merry HELL with my mental condition? Yesterday it was so warm, that all the new snow that fell over the weekend has melted entirely, leaving deep puddles around the place, since the ground is still frozen solid so none of it gets absorbed.
Then, of course, the temperature drops significantly below freezing, and we get ice slicks everywhere.
Kids come out of school mid-afternoon, their coats slung over their arms, as it is far to warm to wear them, the sun shines, and we all get a glimpse of what spring looks like in other parts of the country. We wear waterproof boots--unlined, because of the warmth, then our footprints freeze into the slush overnight, and we trip and slide over our own tracks.
The sun melts the snow off of cars, leaving the encapsulated dirt behind, covering the paint with an encrustation like acne of the particulate matter from the atmosphere. The snow runs off, forming stalactites, which eventually reach the ground, forming a colonnade of ice immobilizing the car into place. When one's car has been literally frozen to the ground, it takes the driver by surprise, and cannot possibly be good for the tires either.
When the melt happens, certain plants are uncovered, flash frozen in their chlorophylled greenness, tricking the eye into believing that the pachysandra is growing again! And then, it snows.
The sky is a uniform murky gray; so opaque that any sunlight is evenly diffused across the landscape with a dully indistinct light as if even God has switched to compact fluorescent lighting to save on energy bills. The trees are starkly black, the profusion of tiny branches brutally distinct against the scrim of the sky, looking like wild haired witches with uncombed locks. Everything out my window is weathered and monochrome--the wooden fences turned silvery gray, the beige of the cement foundation and unpainted wood of the garage, the lightless windows that pierce the gloom inside where the cars sit cold and silent. The sky, the dingy white car parked on the street, the unfaced masonry of the apartment building across the way, the husks of whatever weeds volunteered themselves on the construction rubble around the new garage. Gray and dreary and gray.
The dead brown of winter lawns is slowly filling with new snow, the hollows among the clumps of plants only accentuating the dreary color of dormant gardens. Except where the snow falls, smooth and deceitful over the slicks of frozen water that have turned in the cold to dangerous ice. Snow that will continue to fall until it forces us outside to shovel and blow its accumulation off our driveways and sidewalks, then scurry to move our cars out of the way of the snowplows, that close off the ends of our drives and walks so we have to shovel and blow them out again.
Thank god I'm getting out of here in three weeks. It's this sort of weather that makes Scandanavians so dour, and keeps the population of Greenland suicidal. At least I have the promise of desert warmth in March to keep me going. Eventually this will all go away, just not soon enough for my taste.
Then, of course, the temperature drops significantly below freezing, and we get ice slicks everywhere.
Kids come out of school mid-afternoon, their coats slung over their arms, as it is far to warm to wear them, the sun shines, and we all get a glimpse of what spring looks like in other parts of the country. We wear waterproof boots--unlined, because of the warmth, then our footprints freeze into the slush overnight, and we trip and slide over our own tracks.
The sun melts the snow off of cars, leaving the encapsulated dirt behind, covering the paint with an encrustation like acne of the particulate matter from the atmosphere. The snow runs off, forming stalactites, which eventually reach the ground, forming a colonnade of ice immobilizing the car into place. When one's car has been literally frozen to the ground, it takes the driver by surprise, and cannot possibly be good for the tires either.
When the melt happens, certain plants are uncovered, flash frozen in their chlorophylled greenness, tricking the eye into believing that the pachysandra is growing again! And then, it snows.
The sky is a uniform murky gray; so opaque that any sunlight is evenly diffused across the landscape with a dully indistinct light as if even God has switched to compact fluorescent lighting to save on energy bills. The trees are starkly black, the profusion of tiny branches brutally distinct against the scrim of the sky, looking like wild haired witches with uncombed locks. Everything out my window is weathered and monochrome--the wooden fences turned silvery gray, the beige of the cement foundation and unpainted wood of the garage, the lightless windows that pierce the gloom inside where the cars sit cold and silent. The sky, the dingy white car parked on the street, the unfaced masonry of the apartment building across the way, the husks of whatever weeds volunteered themselves on the construction rubble around the new garage. Gray and dreary and gray.
The dead brown of winter lawns is slowly filling with new snow, the hollows among the clumps of plants only accentuating the dreary color of dormant gardens. Except where the snow falls, smooth and deceitful over the slicks of frozen water that have turned in the cold to dangerous ice. Snow that will continue to fall until it forces us outside to shovel and blow its accumulation off our driveways and sidewalks, then scurry to move our cars out of the way of the snowplows, that close off the ends of our drives and walks so we have to shovel and blow them out again.
Thank god I'm getting out of here in three weeks. It's this sort of weather that makes Scandanavians so dour, and keeps the population of Greenland suicidal. At least I have the promise of desert warmth in March to keep me going. Eventually this will all go away, just not soon enough for my taste.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Too Cold For Humans To Live Here
I got up this morning and the temperature was -15 degrees. That's Fahrenheit, folks! It's even colder in Celsius. (-26 according to a temperature converter.) And that is OFFICIALLY Too Cold For Human Life.
This is probably the hardest winter I've had for something like 15 years. And when it is this cold, it is harder. Cars don't start, and if they do, they aren't anything like warm for quite a long time. And thanks to carjacking, it's stupid--if not downright illegal--to leave a car running unattended while you let it warm up.
I had to fill my Prius yesterday, and it was so cold that something inside the tank was apparently frozen, and I couldn't put more than 2 gallons into it at first. It was so cold the other day that the controls froze, and I couldn't turn off the radio, or change stations, or change the climate controls, or much of anything until the car warmed up. Which I had to do while sitting in the damn thing, because. . .well, see above.
The clasp on the dog's leash freezes, and I have to stand in the cold and warm it with my hands so the poor animal can go out. It was so cold today that he walked out, experienced the weather, and changed his mind.
This is the kind of winter when you understand those stories about people who put on long underwear and literally don't take it off until spring. These are winters when you can read Laura Ingalls Wilder and viscerally understand what she went through. Sure, I don't have to trek through blizzards to go milk the cows, but there are people who still do. I'm especially glad for indoor heating and plumbing.
These are the days when the cold makes the sky a blazing blue, and the snow sears the eyes with whiteness. These are days when the world looks flash frozen, eternally blue and white with cold, the trees all bare and lifeless. When the least little errand takes more time and effort than seems possible, and hibernation seems like a decent coping strategy. When it is this cold, it is impossible to believe that warmth will ever come again, that there will ever be a day when you DON'T have to put on three layers of clothing just to go outside, that you will ever be able to turn off the faucets without worrying that the pipes will freeze, that you wonder why you ever thought you would need air conditioning in your house. These are days when Global Warming seems like a Good Idea.
These are days when fleeing south becomes tremendously attractive.
This is probably the hardest winter I've had for something like 15 years. And when it is this cold, it is harder. Cars don't start, and if they do, they aren't anything like warm for quite a long time. And thanks to carjacking, it's stupid--if not downright illegal--to leave a car running unattended while you let it warm up.
I had to fill my Prius yesterday, and it was so cold that something inside the tank was apparently frozen, and I couldn't put more than 2 gallons into it at first. It was so cold the other day that the controls froze, and I couldn't turn off the radio, or change stations, or change the climate controls, or much of anything until the car warmed up. Which I had to do while sitting in the damn thing, because. . .well, see above.
The clasp on the dog's leash freezes, and I have to stand in the cold and warm it with my hands so the poor animal can go out. It was so cold today that he walked out, experienced the weather, and changed his mind.
This is the kind of winter when you understand those stories about people who put on long underwear and literally don't take it off until spring. These are winters when you can read Laura Ingalls Wilder and viscerally understand what she went through. Sure, I don't have to trek through blizzards to go milk the cows, but there are people who still do. I'm especially glad for indoor heating and plumbing.
These are the days when the cold makes the sky a blazing blue, and the snow sears the eyes with whiteness. These are days when the world looks flash frozen, eternally blue and white with cold, the trees all bare and lifeless. When the least little errand takes more time and effort than seems possible, and hibernation seems like a decent coping strategy. When it is this cold, it is impossible to believe that warmth will ever come again, that there will ever be a day when you DON'T have to put on three layers of clothing just to go outside, that you will ever be able to turn off the faucets without worrying that the pipes will freeze, that you wonder why you ever thought you would need air conditioning in your house. These are days when Global Warming seems like a Good Idea.
These are days when fleeing south becomes tremendously attractive.
Monday, November 03, 2008
Weather Wow
Wow. Just wow.
High of 75 degrees today. Yes, it is the third of November. Yes, I'm still in Minnesota.
I'll have to post a picture of the two enormous pink roses I found in my garden today.
Wow.
High of 75 degrees today. Yes, it is the third of November. Yes, I'm still in Minnesota.
I'll have to post a picture of the two enormous pink roses I found in my garden today.
Wow.
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