Torso Boy got me out of bed at 0-dark thirty with an urgent demand, and left lots of closely-spaced little tracks in the new snow that completely covered my new porch floorboards. Lots of wind and at least some snow overnight. While not a complete surprise it wasn’t actually expected, and so in the course of other things that need doing on a cold winter morning I looked for a weather or news site that might give me some clue as to what to expect weather-wise this weekend. And in one after another I was confidently assured that the cities in my state would be just fine.
This, in case you didn’t know, is one of the minor downsides of living one hell of a long way from where they keep most of the people: Weather channels don’t know and/or care that you exist, and so see no reason to discuss the weather in your area. You can tell what the weather is by just looking out the window. Predicting what the weather will be sometimes involves taking a wild-ass guess – and as it did to me yesterday, that can get you into trouble from time to time.
*ETA: It occurs to me that this title might not make sense to everyone. It refers to this old Straight Dope entry, which I always found funny…
In my spare time I’ve been attempting to construct an Eskimo sentence in my basement, such as will be suitable for the season. I haven’t got it perfected yet, but it’s coming along pretty well, and with a little work it might pass for the genuine article. So far I have: kaniktshaq moritlkatsio atsuniartoq.
When completed, this sentence will proclaim: “Look at all this freaking snow.” At present it means: “Observe the snow. It fornicates.” This isn’t poetic, but it’s serviceable, and I intend to employ it at the next opportunity.