Yesterday I walked to and from the office with temperatures in the 20s and a sharp, cutting wind reddening my face and sending my suddenly flimsy raincoat flapping around my legs.
This morning I woke up and, as I stood in our warm kitchen sipping a blessedly hot cup of coffee, I heard rain on the roof. I looked out into the backyard in the pre-dawn darkness and saw the glittering evidence of the Queen Mother of Crappy Weather on every plant, tree, shrub, and fencepost. Yes, that’s right — a dreaded onslaught of freezing rain has coated every object in ice. Freezing rain, for those lucky people who’ve never experienced it, means that it’s not quite cold enough for precipitation to fall as snow, but just cold enough for the rain to turn to ice once it hits the ground. It’s the worst winter weather of all because it’s cold, and wet, and frozen all at once, and it means the commute this morning will be slick and treacherous for drivers and pedestrians alike. There’s a breeze, too, and the weather page helpfully reports that it feels like 22 degrees out there.
It’s the kind of weather that makes February in Columbus inarguably the worst weather month of the year. But, it’s only November 15. Hey, Mother Nature! What gives?
We’ve once again experienced an abrupt mash-up of the seasons here in the Midwest. True fall weather has been fleeting, and it seems like we’ve moved directly and too quickly into winter. For those people, like me, who think autumn is the best season of the year — well, we feel cheated. We know Old Man Winter is going to arrive sooner or later, but can’t he at least wait until after we’ve had our Thanksgiving dinner before he hits us with freezing rain and another round of “wintry mix”?
If you’re in the Midwest, brace yourself, because it’s too cold too soon . . . again.
It’s been a tough few months for the people who live along the North Carolina coast. First, it was abnormally heavy rains in June and July. Then, in September, Hurricane Florence hit and left the area battered and flooded.
The conditions are all related. The heavy rains earlier in the summer, and the many puddles left by Hurricane Florence, created ideal conditions for tiny critters like the eastern spadefoot toad. It’s one of a number of frogs and toad species that thrive in such conditions — and are biologically designed to go from birth to mature reproductive adulthood in a very short period of time. In short, it’s high times for the eastern spadefoot right now, and it and the other frog and toad species are taking advantage of the many available love-puddles to engage in “explosive breeding.”
Once the frogs and toads take care of that biological imperative, their rapidly growing legions go searching for drier locations — and, because the conditions are so damp, that means houses, and cars, and other places where people don’t want or expect to encounter frogs and toads. The darned things are everywhere, croaking and hopping and staring at people with those big yellow frog eyes. Carolinians are finding frogs and toads in their kitchens, clinging desperately to the windshields of cars, and falling on them when they leave their houses. It’s got to be unsettling, to say the least.
Over time, the puddles will dry out, the conditions will change, and the frog and toad population will return to its rightful balance. For now, though, the people of North Carolina have to be wondering what’s next. Locusts, perhaps?
We’re doing a long-distance drive today and — wouldn’t you know it! — mid-trip the air conditioning has gone on the fritz. No matter how longingly I look at the vent, hoping for the arctic blast to which I’m accustomed, only warm, moist air emanates. And, of course, it had to happen on a warm, humid day.
What is this — the ’50s? Time to roll down the windows and hope for a rain shower and a cool breeze.
Normally, August is one of the hottest months of the year. It’s typically the month when your lawn dries out and finally gives up the ghost, and you squirm with embarrassment when your neighbors arch an eyebrow at the carpet of brownness.
Not this year, though. We’re in the midst of the wettest August I can remember, where you need to carry your umbrella every day just in case another gullywasher is going to roll through town. We had a big cloudburst this afternoon, and another one tonight. It’s as if August and April traded places.
The lawn seems to be enjoying it, though. What’s next? August mushrooms?
This summer I have a simple, straightforward goal. I’m not trying to lose 50 pounds, or develop six-pack abs, or write the Great American Novel. No, my sights are set much lower, at something that is at least reasonably attainable: I want to wear my sunglasses as often as I possibly can.
Some years ago, when I bought a new pair of regular glasses, I got this pair of retro sunglasses for a reduced price. However, I’ve never really worn them much. I think it’s because I’ve never gotten in the habit of wearing sunglasses at all. I’ve always worn prescription glasses, and back in the old days if you did your only option was to wear the kind of shades that clipped on to your regular glasses. That was too nerdy for me, so I swore off sunglasses. As a result, even when I got these prescription jobs that address the near-sightedness issue, I just never thought of wearing them.
But earlier this year I resolved that I should start wearing the sunglasses, and I’ve realized I really like it. For one things, the dark lenses hide the unseemly bags and wrinkles surrounding my aging eyes. For another, the sunglasses make me think I look stylish, even if that is a laughable proposition. And wearing the sunglasses on hot days somehow makes me feel cooler, temperature-wise. I know that can’t possibly be true in an objective sense, because obviously eyewear doesn’t reduce the ambient temperature or minimize the harshness of the sun’s rays, but wearing the shades gives me that feeling just the same — and I like it.
Already this year, I’m confident that I’ve worn my sunglasses more than I have in all of the years I’ve had them, combined. I feel a certain sense of accomplishment, but I also feel like I’m in more of a summer mood. Amazing what a pair of sunglasses can accomplish!
It’s been beastly hot in Columbus over the past few weeks, with temperatures in the 90s and very little rain. You might aptly describe the weather as broiling — but that’s July in Ohio for you.
We’ve been gone for a few days during this torrid period. That’s been good for us, because we were enjoying much cooler weather, but for the plants in our front flower pots? Not so much. When I got home they were dried out and teetering on the edge of death. I’ve been watering them in the morning and again at night in hopes of saving them and am seeing some hopeful green signs, but it’s obvious the hot weather combined with lack of watering knocked them for a severe loop. The flowers and plants in our beds, on the other hand, seem to have survived the hot dry weather just fine.
It makes me question whether having flower pots during a midwestern summer makes any sense at all — unless you are going to be around on a daily basis to water them. Since we’re on the road regularly, I’m thinking that next year we might forgo the cruelty to the poor potted plants and the guilt that comes from seeing desiccated brown leaves.