Windy with a Chance of Hail and Tornadoes

Butterflies, dragonflies, mosquitos…

Oh, my!

Well, t’is the season, after all.

Trees and grass are finally springing back to life in all their springy green glory.

Bright, aromatic flowers are in full, allergy-inducing bloom.

Colossal bugs are buzzing around, draining blood from unsuspecting victims like stealthy vampires.

Oh, but let’s not forget the sunshine and warm gentle breezes!

On second thought, scratch that last one.

The sun has been making itself scarce, as forecasts of endless storms take center stage.

And the so-called breezes have been anything but gentle lately.

With wind gusts fast enough to outpace the Roadrunner, gentle is definitely not the right word.

Oh, and I recently discovered that my efforts to recycle are clearly for naught.

Earlier this week, I caught some of my recycled goods blowing right back out of the recycling bin, rapidly drifting down the street like engineless aircraft.

Straight into a massive puddle of swamp.

Which means my attempt at recycling had astoundingly resulted in littering.

Littering!

And let’s not forget about that corn dog box I encountered several days later, crushed in the middle of the road.

I’m 99.9% certain that the box in question originated from my household.

Or more specifically, my recycling bin.

My stupid, stupid recycling bin that refuses to keep its lid on.

I accidentally found myself being an accomplice to littering yet again just the other day, when the designated litter bag blew right out the open car window and into a field of cows less than a mile from our house.

Oh, the irony. 

So much for saving the environment.

Anyway…

Here’s a funny story to take the spotlight off of myself:

Years ago, I had these really cool environmental license plates on my car. 

One day, a passenger (who shall remain nameless) had the audacity to toss trash out my window. 

Seriously.

Littering from a car boasting environmental pride.

Not cool.

I couldn’t sleep for days afterward.

Which isn’t surprising, when you consider I’ve actually been known to chase after my airborne trash.

But there is a time and place for everything.

Besides, I couldn’t imagine running after my rubbish among herds of cattle- namely Longhorns and bulls- being a wise decision.

I must say, I’ve lived in states with some rather erratic weather over the years, but never before have I experienced extremes like this.

Good thing we’ve got a handy weather alert radio to scare the crap out of us at all times of the night.

It typically starts with a Severe Thunderstorm Warning.

After a matter of minutes, a Tornado Watch follows.

An hour later, it escalates to a full-blown Tornado Warning.

Meanwhile, unforecasted hail the size of baseballs pounds against the windows and roof like an onslaught of rocks launched out of cannons.

The neighbor’s trash cans tumble downhill before flipping completely upside down.

Trash littered her front yard.

(Ha! Looks like I’m not the only one accidentally littering, after all.)

The next day, my younger son and I went out back to play football in our mud pit of a yard.

Because, you know, it wasn’t raining at that particular moment.

With the wind still blowing, one of our decorative pink flamingos and the watering can just had to get in on the action.

The watering can actually caught the football as they both flew through the air from different areas of the backyard and landed together in the grass.

Phenomenal catch, watering can!

It’s safe to say that the weather here in No Man’s Land is anything but predictable.

But, hey, we have the benefit of experiencing all four seasons…

Typically, all in the course of a single week.

Take this past Christmas, for instance. 

It was a record 76 degrees that day.

Three days later, snow coated the ground.

How exciting, right?

Well, I suppose there is a reason we’ve got a well-stocked storage closet under the staircase that doubles as a storm shelter.

On the bright side, the abundant clouds in the sky make for some magical masterpieces each time the sun rises and sets.

Always, always a silver lining!

~Happy Friday, friends! If you’re amused by my weather-related chaos, be sure to also check out Sunny with a Chance of Tsunamis. Have a fantastic weekend!~

Our watering can getting in on the action by catching a football.

Our watering can getting in on the action by catching a football.

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Sunny with a Chance of Tsunamis

Would’ve. Should’ve. Could’ve.

Every single human being has regrets in life, and I’m no exception.

My biggest regret?

I missed my true calling.

I should’ve been a meteorologist.

That’s right, one of those weather-predicting people who seem to be wrong more often than right, yet still get paid for constantly screwing up.

Despite the bad rap they get, I read somewhere that meteorologists are actually correct about 80% of the time, overall.

Which is fairly surprising.

The thing is, I live in a place where all kinds of weather-related mayhem is possible in a matter of minutes.

So this could really work to my advantage.

After all, weather forecasting is not an exact science.

It’s more like a multiple choice quiz.

And I know from experience that I can randomly guess and be right more often than not.

I want to get paid to not think. To not make sense. To make off-the-wall predictions that may or may not come true.

And meteorologists do essentially predict the future.

Or at least, they attempt to.

But storms can shift direction, and lessen or increase in force and intensity.

These things happen.

And between aging satellites and drunk meteorologists, things are bound to get more than a little messed up.

The sun is shining! And now it’s… raining?

But it’s still blindingly sunny?!?

Well, the radar did predict a sunny day… so where did that tornado just come from?

When you look outside the window and there are donkeys on tree branches and horses on rooftops…

Yeah.

Somehow, someway, someone was a little off.

One minute, there’s zero chance of rain… and then it’s suddenly raining hard enough to recreate Noah’s Ark.

Which explains that motorcycle floating coasting  down the sidewalk in plain sight of a swarm of cops.

And those bicyclists pedaling for their lives like drenched hamsters on a treadmill against sudden 70 mph gusts of wind.

And the pedestrian who unexpectedly finds herself going for an impromptu swim through six lanes of traffic.

Yet when it’s supposed to rain all day, every day for a week…

There’s not a single cloud in the sky.

But seriously, where the hell did that tornado come from?

Where was that on the radar map?

What gives?

Really and truly, though. I get it. I do.

Nature is unpredictable and has a mind of its own.

But so do I.

And I still think I should’ve been a meteorologist.

Pretty much summarizes my warped vision of the whole weather-predicting process.

Pretty much summarizes my warped vision of the whole weather-predicting process.