A weird weather day

Why is the weather such an endlessly fascinating topic? I guess maybe it is only that compelling when it is one’s own weather and not that of someone faraway. But mine has been odd today. I woke up in the night and was shocked because it was so light – and a strange white light filling my bedroom. At first, I thought I had grievously overslept. I pried my eyes open and realized I had only been asleep for an hour. I rolled over and looked out the window to see that snow was coming down like cats and dogs. Or maybe more like kittens and lambs – thick and fluffy. Groan! Then I realized that I didn’t have to go to work, so less of a groan. It was a sunny, cold day, and Samos and I went to lunch at a Vietnamese vegan restaurant. We had fake salmon, very yummy. Later, while I was suffering with more Tom Estate Ordeal (almost all done - Hurrah!), I heard sounds like zillions of needles and pins dropping on the house. Margaret, who is quite fierce at all sorts of weather, oddly did not initially notice. It was hail, and it went on and on. She did eventually notice and is valiantly protecting me from it even now.
You are probably wondering what this other picture has to do with anything. I woke this morning to snow, and a day or two ago, I awoke to noises outside my window. I got up to see what it was, and it was this fellow. Right there! I could not believe it. He was not slyly spying, however. He was fixing something electrical.

Yet another snowy day!

Rachael and I sing at two Masses on Sundays, one in the morning and the other at 5:30. The practice for the 5:30 Mass begins at four o’clock. Usually, I walk to the morning Mass, and then either work on a project till time to go to the second Mass, or – more likely – take a nap, and then drive to the evening mass. When I stepped out my door to leave, there was a horrifying little white flitter flutter of snowflakes. The weatherman had predicted a tiny bit of snow and immediate rain afterwards. No stickies. He promised. Soooooo, my dilemma was whether to walk and not risk driving in the snow or to believe the weather reports that this snow would not stick. I thought about driving in the snow. I thought about how tired and cold I would be at seven o’clock on this deep winter’s evening. I thought about how I would probably be late if I walked. I opted to believe the weatherman. When Rachael and I came stepped out of the Cathedral, there was snow everywhere. Deep snow. It always astonishes me how the weather report says two inches of snow and I can clearly see two feet. Have you noticed that? During the previous snow, Rachael had been nagging me to drive here or there, and had made allusions to wimpiness when I refused to even try it. Well, here we were with no choice in the matter. We set off. Initially our progress seemed not too bad, but then we saw the Volkswagen in front of us going sideways up a tiny incline. A tiny incline that we were about to go up. Rachael immediately checked her seatbelt. One of my theories of life is that Volkswagens, being of German ancestry, should do well in the snow. It is their nature. My car is Japanese, and so it is not in its nature. Now, intellectually, I know that it gets very cold and snowy in Japan, but I always think of it as all cherry blossoms and wisteria, and always spring. (See pictures.) So I did not expect much from my poor auto. However, it went up the hill face forward, and performed well till we were nearly home. Some man shook his fist at us as we were struggling up the big hill by our house. Usually, when we are driving along, Rachael gets upset and feels sorry for the other drivers or pedestrians when I call them bad names. This time, she pointed out the man and felt that he should be called a bad name. As we approached our house, she suggested that we park on the street rather than trying to get into our garage – sometimes a slithery business when it is just raining. Of course that would not do. We have to drive across the sidewalk to get into the garage, and the maneuver was initially much like that of the poor Volkswagen. Rachael said, “Let’s leave the car here. The police will understand and won’t mind.” Well, that would not do either – to leave the car parked in the middle of the sidewalk. Finally, we succeeded and were very relieved. I suspect that there will not be any more hints about snow wimpiness. And this snow was probably officially only about an inch deep, I am sure.

Another snowy day

When it snows, Seattle stands still. Folks from snowier parts laugh at us, but there it is. We really cannot function in the snow. My bus is one of the first to give up when there is snow, and in this picture of my bus stop, you can see two abandoned buses waiting for the snow to go away. And as you can see from the yellow tape, the road itself - a rather main one - is closed. Last evening at work I was praying that the predicted storm would not arrive in Seattle until I arrived home from work, and so it happened. My bus was still running and there was not too much ice on the sidewalk from the previous stormlet. I had visions of myself slipping, breaking an elbow and ending up a patient on my own nursing unit, but I arrived home intact. However, in the wee hours of the morning, there was a ferocious thunderclap, followed by another, followed by intense snowfall, followed by Margaret protecting us from the snowflakes. She is ever vigilant and diligent about keeping the weather at bay. She continued barking until we finally gave up and got up. Several days ago, I was talking to my aunt on the phone, and she asked, "Has it started snowing?" "No, what makes you think so? Is it snowing at your house?" I asked. "No, but Margaret is barking," she said.



Here is my snug little house which I hate to leave when the weather is bleak.