glacier_kitty (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
glacier_kitty) wrote2008-06-24 10:27 am
glacier_kitty) wrote2008-06-24 10:27 am
An excerpt from Fixin' to be Texan
Texas Weather
It's hot--except when it's not.
You will find that Texas has very long summers, very short winters, and negligible springs and falls. Around October, you will become very tired of summer and wish that it would go away. Then one morning, you will awaken and it will be 40 degrees outside. All the leaves will have departed the trees overnight and will be sitting in the yard, demanding to be raked.
That was fall.
It will be semi-cold in November and somewhat colder in December, January, and February. (As a Texan, you should begin shivering when the thermometer drops below 40.)
A particularly strong cold wind is known as a blue norther. The north is to blame for everything bad that happens in Texas, including getting cold.
And now, we're going to have to talk about the s-word. No, not snake. SNOW--the substance that strikes terror in the hearts of all Texans. If you live in the Panhandle, you'll be surprised at how much of this stuff you'll see. Think about it: If they'd drawn the lines a little differently, you'd be living in Colorado. It's going to snow on you. Sorry.
If you live in the Dallas-Fort Worth area, it's likely to snow maybe once a year. It might accumulate an inch or less, unless it's an unusual year.
If you live in Houston, San Antonio, or points south, it is not supposed to snow on you at all. If it does, you have cause to weep copiously.
By now, if you are from the north, you are snorting. Snow, especially an inch or so, is no cause for alarm, you say. You are wrong.
When it snows in Minnesota, what happens? They bring out the salt trucks, right? Well, there are no salt trucks in Texas. They do not salt the roads. Snow happens to infrequently for Them (THEM will be used throughout this book to denote people who make decisions whose names we do not know) to want to deal with big piles of salt sitting around. Besides, They're afraid of corroding Their pickup trucks. So, no salt.
They will, if it snows, put sand on the roads. This provides traction for the first ten cars that traverse the roadway. After that, it just makes the snow bumpier.
This is why weather forecasters jump up and down and wave their pointy little sticks a lot when snow is forecast. It is time for all of us to get excited.
This is what you do when snow is forecast:
Wring your hands.
Drive immediately to the grocery store and buy vast quantities of everything--water, peanut butter, spray cheese, duct tape. Whatever. You won't need these things. But it's a Texas tradition to gather at the grocery store before it snows.
Cancel everything you've planned to do for the next week.
Put your car in the garage if you have one. No, you're not going to be putting on chains or snow tires. Nobody bothers with those here, for the same reason They don't salt the roads.
Stay glued to the television until you see whether or not it really does snow. If it does, cower in your house and wring your hands until it all melts.
No, do not drive. If you drive, you are going to find two types of drivers on the roads--little old ladies who are moving along at 5 mph, clinging desperately to the wheel, and pickup trucks whizzing along at 70 mph, getting off on all the fish-tailing...Anyone who encounters a slick patch will slam on his or her brakes and go sideways. Into you.
STAY HOME.
What if it's freezing rain instead of snow? Worse. Much worse. Even you cannot drive on ice that hasn't been salted. Trust me.
STAY HOME.
And be happy that winter is very short in Texas, your beloved new state.
By March, the warm-up generally has begun--along with the spring monsoon season. Do not live at the low end of a cul-de-sac; it'll be a bayou in the springtime. In March or April it can rain for weeks and weeks. Or not. It's Texas; it'll do what it wants.
In summer, you will hear the weather forecasters saying things like, "It's really going to cool down tomorrow," and you will be tempted to get all excited. Don't. They mean it'll drop from 110 to about 98.
One thing about Texas: It has tornadoes. Real ones. If you're under a tornado watch, check the radio now and then. If it turns into a tornado warning, time to panic. Run into an interior bathroom, jump in the bathtub, and put a matress over your head.
Why would you do anything so silly?
Because you don't have a basement to hide in. Really. You don't. Go check; I'll wait.
See? No basement. Rarely, rarely does a Texas house have a basement. Texas soil is very shifty and loose. Texas houses often have foundation problems because of shifting and settling. Basements are out of the question. When I first moved to Texas and asked the basement question, I was told that if I had a basement I would wake up one morning and my basement would be two feet to the left of the rest of my house.
So you can't hide in the basement. Conventional wisdom is to head for an interior room, perferably a bathroom with pipes that will help keep the walls intact if it's just an F1 or F2 tornado--the wimps of the tornado world. If an F-5 hits your house, you're toast. Relax; the odds of that happening aren't much better than the odds that you'll win the Texas Lottery.
More important than a basement in a Texas house is a garage. That's because it hails a good bit during Texas thunderstorms. Generally, it'll be pea-sized hail. Sometimes it'll be marble sized. (Occasionally weather forecasters will refer to dime sized hail, which is really silly: When was the last time you saw flat hail?) But if the hail gets very big, Texas' love for sports kicks in: We have golf ball-size hail. Sometimes we have baseball-sized hail. Either one will make an un-garaged car look like the surface of the moon. As of this writing, we've never seen basketball-sized hail. But this is Texas; don't put it past us.
Pic of the day:
One of the times when Latin club went to Bari's. What a LOVELY picture of me :P
Today's stupidest quote: We're not fooling around. We've got the bull by the tail and we're looking him straight in the eye (chief of the Anishnabe Nation Dave Courchene)
It's hot--except when it's not.
You will find that Texas has very long summers, very short winters, and negligible springs and falls. Around October, you will become very tired of summer and wish that it would go away. Then one morning, you will awaken and it will be 40 degrees outside. All the leaves will have departed the trees overnight and will be sitting in the yard, demanding to be raked.
That was fall.
It will be semi-cold in November and somewhat colder in December, January, and February. (As a Texan, you should begin shivering when the thermometer drops below 40.)
A particularly strong cold wind is known as a blue norther. The north is to blame for everything bad that happens in Texas, including getting cold.
And now, we're going to have to talk about the s-word. No, not snake. SNOW--the substance that strikes terror in the hearts of all Texans. If you live in the Panhandle, you'll be surprised at how much of this stuff you'll see. Think about it: If they'd drawn the lines a little differently, you'd be living in Colorado. It's going to snow on you. Sorry.
If you live in the Dallas-Fort Worth area, it's likely to snow maybe once a year. It might accumulate an inch or less, unless it's an unusual year.
If you live in Houston, San Antonio, or points south, it is not supposed to snow on you at all. If it does, you have cause to weep copiously.
By now, if you are from the north, you are snorting. Snow, especially an inch or so, is no cause for alarm, you say. You are wrong.
When it snows in Minnesota, what happens? They bring out the salt trucks, right? Well, there are no salt trucks in Texas. They do not salt the roads. Snow happens to infrequently for Them (THEM will be used throughout this book to denote people who make decisions whose names we do not know) to want to deal with big piles of salt sitting around. Besides, They're afraid of corroding Their pickup trucks. So, no salt.
They will, if it snows, put sand on the roads. This provides traction for the first ten cars that traverse the roadway. After that, it just makes the snow bumpier.
This is why weather forecasters jump up and down and wave their pointy little sticks a lot when snow is forecast. It is time for all of us to get excited.
This is what you do when snow is forecast:
Wring your hands.
Drive immediately to the grocery store and buy vast quantities of everything--water, peanut butter, spray cheese, duct tape. Whatever. You won't need these things. But it's a Texas tradition to gather at the grocery store before it snows.
Cancel everything you've planned to do for the next week.
Put your car in the garage if you have one. No, you're not going to be putting on chains or snow tires. Nobody bothers with those here, for the same reason They don't salt the roads.
Stay glued to the television until you see whether or not it really does snow. If it does, cower in your house and wring your hands until it all melts.
No, do not drive. If you drive, you are going to find two types of drivers on the roads--little old ladies who are moving along at 5 mph, clinging desperately to the wheel, and pickup trucks whizzing along at 70 mph, getting off on all the fish-tailing...Anyone who encounters a slick patch will slam on his or her brakes and go sideways. Into you.
STAY HOME.
What if it's freezing rain instead of snow? Worse. Much worse. Even you cannot drive on ice that hasn't been salted. Trust me.
STAY HOME.
And be happy that winter is very short in Texas, your beloved new state.
By March, the warm-up generally has begun--along with the spring monsoon season. Do not live at the low end of a cul-de-sac; it'll be a bayou in the springtime. In March or April it can rain for weeks and weeks. Or not. It's Texas; it'll do what it wants.
In summer, you will hear the weather forecasters saying things like, "It's really going to cool down tomorrow," and you will be tempted to get all excited. Don't. They mean it'll drop from 110 to about 98.
One thing about Texas: It has tornadoes. Real ones. If you're under a tornado watch, check the radio now and then. If it turns into a tornado warning, time to panic. Run into an interior bathroom, jump in the bathtub, and put a matress over your head.
Why would you do anything so silly?
Because you don't have a basement to hide in. Really. You don't. Go check; I'll wait.
See? No basement. Rarely, rarely does a Texas house have a basement. Texas soil is very shifty and loose. Texas houses often have foundation problems because of shifting and settling. Basements are out of the question. When I first moved to Texas and asked the basement question, I was told that if I had a basement I would wake up one morning and my basement would be two feet to the left of the rest of my house.
So you can't hide in the basement. Conventional wisdom is to head for an interior room, perferably a bathroom with pipes that will help keep the walls intact if it's just an F1 or F2 tornado--the wimps of the tornado world. If an F-5 hits your house, you're toast. Relax; the odds of that happening aren't much better than the odds that you'll win the Texas Lottery.
More important than a basement in a Texas house is a garage. That's because it hails a good bit during Texas thunderstorms. Generally, it'll be pea-sized hail. Sometimes it'll be marble sized. (Occasionally weather forecasters will refer to dime sized hail, which is really silly: When was the last time you saw flat hail?) But if the hail gets very big, Texas' love for sports kicks in: We have golf ball-size hail. Sometimes we have baseball-sized hail. Either one will make an un-garaged car look like the surface of the moon. As of this writing, we've never seen basketball-sized hail. But this is Texas; don't put it past us.
Pic of the day:
One of the times when Latin club went to Bari's. What a LOVELY picture of me :P
Today's stupidest quote: We're not fooling around. We've got the bull by the tail and we're looking him straight in the eye (chief of the Anishnabe Nation Dave Courchene)