Marching

 

March, eh?

Over 700" in the mountains this snow year. We're at 200% normal water up there. It won't cure the drought, but it will help.  Garden is happy, but it will be a late start for growing.  The various crocus/iris/tulip/allium don't mind at all. 

My hand surgeons are all at a conference, so I took the day off as well. I'm trying to be proactive about taking time off, and not let myself get exhausted like I did in February.  They give me PTO, I need to take it in a useful way. My colleague does, and is supportive of me doing the same. 

Drought

 Not bad for June, in the middle of a drought. Not enough, but today, right now, it's lovely.  My eyes relax, my skin calms. 

VA forms and processes are proceeding apace. My head whirls, but it's all getting done.  Fingerprints tomorrow to start the background check process. Physical  on Monday. Personal references.  This is a lot more than any other job, but I heartily approve.  This is a Big Deal.  And I take it with the seriousness it deserves. 

And the rain falls. My garden smells wonderful. 

Downed

 Yup, 112MPH (180km/h) confirmed.   This just from a walk around the block. 

Hurricane

 The wind roars, gusts like hurricanes, trees dance and fall.  A scouring wind, pushing cars and people back and forth. Electricity cut off, lines trailing along. These winds happen, usually along a strong front, whoosh through and rush away.  But this wind started last evening, waved through again in the wee hours, then right as we were finishing setting up the ORs for an 0800 start that never happened. Reserve power kicked in, went out, then generator only. And still it roars, and may until morning. 

We tidied up, salvaged what we could, and got supplies ready for tomorrow.  The drive home slightly less scary than the drive in, but more trees and branches down, and traffic lights out. My driveway full of leaves and branches crunching under my tires. After a brief break, I went back out and cleared away the worst of it, compost and mulch for the garden, later. 

Our tree in front is healthy, and seems to be having fun. 

SALT LAKE CITY — Hurricane-level winds blew into the state Tuesday morning leading to power outages, downed trees and wind damage throughout northern Utah.

The National Weather Service officially reported a wind gust of 99 mph in Farmington and unofficial reports at the University of Utah had the gusts as high as 112 mph. The Salt Lake Airport had gusts of 70 mph.

Thousands of Utahns lost power due to the strong winds and schools throughout the area were closed. 

Gust

Between my arm and
Body my warm purring cat.
Tail covers elbow.


Lots of rain overnight. After whistling gusting winds. A good soaking rain, much cooler. Garden is ruffled, and very happy. I'll go out and find the sneaky weeds this afternoon.


22 May 5:54 pm 62˚F Winds NNW 44 Gusting to 53MPH 3.00 miles visibility

At work everyone is still adjusting, after a couple of months of minimal work, more sitting than any of us have had since we started in the OR. We remember that it took a while for our bodies to adjust to standing on hard floors so long, and we have to learn again. I was the resource/break/lunch person yesterday, and I racked up 16k steps. My legs are seriously pissed off at me today, and were complaining all night.

Memorial Day feels very weird this year. We normally don't do anything on these civic holidays, nor do I exactly need a day off. So... yeah.

High up, it snowed.

Eleven

So glad I have the day off. Eleven inches, much of it lake effect I'm sure. It'll melt fast, though. Dylan shoveled this morning, I will get out with the electric shovel later for around the garage. Schools and University and Library all closed, I wonder how many of the surgeries will cancel at my OR.

Cheap store brand heel pads working better than the expensive special ones. Got a second pair to keep in my work shoes. Not all better, but definitely measurably improved.

Haboob

Blowing Dust
51°F
11°C
Humidity 44%
Wind Speed WNW 35 G 48 MPH
Barometer 29.81 in
Dewpoint 30°F (-1°C)
Visibility 0.75 mi
Last update on 14 Apr 3:35 pm MDT


Wild weather, the sky a greenish orange, dusty becoming muddy air, no rain yet. Semis toppled on the east-west freeway, I-80, as is typical when the winds pick up around here. They really should close it preemptively, with a truck shelter over in Wendover and Tooele, until the winds abate. Instead, they close it after multiple accidents and people are killed and injured.

One case left at work when I ran off home, everything else tidied and tended. I could have lingered, but I wanted to watch the storm develop. Wanted to be home. Would like to go out, but with all this dust, it's not good. Waiting for the rain to start, first.

They set up a party for the departing manager. Who protested that she isn't gone yet, she'll still be around sometimes. Lots of bitten tongues around there. I avoided the staff room lounge, not just because of the lack of space, mostly not to say anything impolitic. I'm far from the only one quietly gleeful at seeing her go. Although I'm wary that the replacement may be no better. Either way, she didn't spot me, because I saw her first, a couple of times, and ducked out the other way. Well, it was safe in the OR, she never went in there.

Sitting here by the window, watching the winds ruffle the world.

According to the Wasatch Weather Weenies,

Typically the dust becomes highly concentrated at the cold front. It will be haboob-like when it comes through. You won't want to be outside during the frontal passage.

Some guys are playing soccer (football) over in the park.



1730, it's snowing. Not that it will stick, and it's mixed in with rain. Still, better late than not at all. Water!

1950, went out walking in it. Lucy's scarfhat kept me cozy, as well as my old raincoat and umbrella. Still raining, with snow mixed in.

Fires

Hellish stinking air.
Ozone, smoke, particulates,
Murky orange clog.

Hot

1753, 23 June
Fair

99°F
(37°C)
Humidity: 3 %
Wind Speed: SSW 29 G 36 MPH
Barometer: 29.69 in (998.20 mb)
Dewpoint: 7°F (-14°C)
Heat Index: 93°F (34°C)
Visibility: 10.00 Miles


This is just not happy.

I have only one pair of decent shorts, and one with holes, both are about ten years old. I tried to find a replacement, and could not. All the same size, some were too large, some too small, some too tight in the thigh, some too short in the rise, some simply too large. Did not want capri's because they only look good on Mary Tyler Moore and Audrey Hepburn, when they were under 30. Useful for Mormon women who need to cover their holy underwear. For me, a complete waste of time. Did bring home a knit skirt that I can use when it's hot and I don't give a shit, i.e. going to work. It was also on sale, big time.

Friends over, with three year old. Moby remarkably tolerant, until he was done and went to hide in the back room. Got to talk gardening. Found out the front door frame is wobbly, Dave offered to come out and help with putting in some bolts. Good friends, in the midst of early parenthood, among other issues. Time is their most precious resource, we don't want to ask much of them right now. There is time. We have a thirty year mortgage.

Forcing myself to pace it all is difficult. I want to fix everything right now, so I can relax. Doesn't work that way.

Fire

Lots of grumpiness at work today, the kind that makes one want to punch some people, but laughing is much more effective. Walked out to my car with farmgirl, into the smoky hot air. Campfire smell, everywhere, meaning a wildfire and a wind blowing toward us. We were dismayed, her especially since she has a market garden, and the irrigation has been on the fritz.

NOAA brought out a new graphic, or at least I don't remember this one before.


Although the forecast "areas smoke" seems annoyingly ungrammatical. "Smoky" would have been more elegant and descriptive, wouldn't you think?

It's not as miserable as in places with high humidity, low altitude, and architecture for winter. Still searing and glaring.




Layering is not just for icy blasts. Cellular blinds can only do so much, so the $20 yard sale screen and the bamboo screen that lived on the balcony at the old place, have all been put into service against the low beams.



To those of you dealing with the heavy, damp heat, my utter condolences.

For those of you further afield and getting too much rain, may I please have some?

Bucket

All virusy today, Moby hanging close, raining. Trees budding, buckets filling. Brain buzzing, as well as my ears. Feeling guilty because I know it's busy at work, but I would not be of any use.

Or as I have been known to say at work, since I keep my strong words out of my professional demeanor, BUCKET! Bucket-all.

Prediction

I dreamed I was at work, and my mother called through the recovery room, left three messages. The forth time I was there, and talked with her. She was snide and critical, and I quietly hung up the phone. And apologized to the nurses there for her many calls - I don't know how she got the phone number. No anger, just resignation. Her number is blocked at home.

All the weather predictors were warning of a strong front to push through last night, with rain, snow, acute drop in temperatures. I checked the noaa site, in particular the animated map showing water vapor. The movement was there, but the moisture was not. I thought, well, how is it going to rain/snow if there isn't anything wet on the way? And indeed, although quite windy last night, and probably some places got very strong gusts, it never got that bad, it's not as cold as predicted, and there was no rain at all so far. Listen to the experts, but always look for yourself.

Disownment was a theme of my family growing up, right along with unconditional love. The irony was not lost on me. But I never considered it in terms of disinheritance, since I knew damn well there was no money, no estate, which never bothered me in the least. I knew I would work for my own income, send myself to college, everything I had would be mine. No, I saw disownment as exclusion from the family in emotional terms only. I think it is why I always kept as much of my heart in reserve as I could.

Remembering when I got the scar on my shin, playing with the older neighborhood children, moving a concrete catch for a downspout. I was perhaps 4, maybe 5. It slipped and scraped down my leg. My father panicked and my brother (maybe 12 or 13) took over, got me cleaned up, used all the band-aids to close the long wound. I sat on the toilet seat as he carefully washed and bandaged me, while the parent ranted uselessly outside the door. I thought my railroad of band-aids was rather wonderfully funny.

When I had my lip stitched up in the ER last year, D, who is quite squeamish and after his own medical encounters, very sensitive to these situations, sat holding my hand throughout. Didn't bother him at all, because, he said "it's for you."



Ok, it's snow/raining now. Day late, inches short.

Scan

Fur all filling back in. Proof, if any is needed, that cheap beige apartment carpet is not good for anyone.

D just glad he can keep the scanner out, not stored away under the bed. All a matter of perspective.

Sat down with a mug of tea, check the usual morning sites while D dressed & ate breakfast. Moby insisted he is a better laptop, since he is warm, furry, & purrs. He has a good point. I'm stuck for a while. Sorry about the lack of quality, photo-booth can only do so much at this angle.


Jobs to do, must wait a while. Snowed all night, to little result - don't even need to shovel. I rather expected as much. Still, I'd rather prepare for a dump and wind up with a dusting, than the other way around.

Terrific

Terrific winds since early morning, still bitter by the time I left work. Canyon winds, channeled and powerful, and selective. Trees down, branches, leaves making a mad, panicked dance. On my way up to work, a school bus in the lane next to me put on a turn signal to move left. I let it in, and then saw that the right lane was blocked with two garbage bins. The higher I drove, the worse the wind gusted, a massive force against the car, at stops shoving me from side to side. Had I been flipped over, it would not have particularly surprized me. I braced myself for the walk to the door, a breathtaking stretch. The woman ahead of me struggled to get the door pulled open, grateful when I added to her efforts.

North of us, a gust of 102 PMH was clocked. Right here, one of over 60 MPH was measured. Semis knocked off the highway, signs thrown all over. Even the commuter train got blocked by debris on the tracks. Hurricane moments in the middle of a continent. Very odd, unsettling. We do get these winds once in a while, but this one is a doozy. That it blew through during the day I think makes it worse.

And it is very dry. A dew point of 12˚F (-11 C) is not comfortable, my hands are cracked, my eyes scratchy.


Despite it being Thursday, it was Windsday, Pooh.


I don't know why this struck me so funny, but here it is.

Melt

"Oh, no, D.... I think I've melted the cat!"

Sorry, no photo, it was early on a wet morning, a black cat on a dark blanket. I'd put on the electric bed pad, high, when I got up. Moby flattened out for maximum tum exposure, chin included. Seemed bonelessly contented. A puddle of fur snerfeling softly.

The snow came through, I expect a lot of the more exposed freeways were not safe for driving last night. But by morning, perhaps an inch on the lawns and roofs, no doubt more further up. Not especially cold, now.

We looked at more open houses today. One place built before the turn of last century, squeaking floors, awkward rooms, kludged shelves and storage. A tile strip about 3' wide between living and dining room, extending from a wood burning fireplace (not converted) not flush with the rest of the floor. We wondered what it hid. Thick, obnoxious paint slathered over every wall, in muddy, teeth gnashing colors. Odd shaped windows, odd smell. All I wanted to do was leave. A condo that we could live in, but nothing special. And a lovely arts & crafts era house that we would do very well in, if a tad too big for us, and the price a skosh high. Still, it's a short sale, so we contacted our potential realtor about maybe putting in a bid. We aren't as ready as we'd like to be, but maybe there is no such thing.

Oh, and the posh condo that is WAY out of range, but we had to be nosey. First floor entryway room, which confused D - understandably. Long flight of stairs up to a formal dining area with professional kitchen, including wine fridge. Tall windows, loads of light. Another flight of stairs, three large bedrooms, two full baths with black stone shower stalls, one with a spa tub. Laundry room, too. I figure, we could convert one bathroom into a kitchen, and we'd be fine with just that floor. Too much, a glut, but with a definite appeal for those who can afford a cleaning service.

I really have to start taking the camera with us.

Must clean, get the place sorted. Working all three days, and I rather not do a massive clean Thursday - Thanksgiving - morning.




I really have to start taking the camera.

Might

Good concert, as per. A bit odder, more experimental segments than usual, even for them, or rather They. Strange set of songs. Possibly because the've brought out two albums in the last six months. I hoped they'd play Judy Is Your Vietnam, which they did on the first encore. No confetti cannon this time. I'd love to see them in a really tiny venue, say 50-100 people, unplugged, guitar and accordion, heavy on the slower songs. Ok, they can bring Dan Miller along.



Their audiences here are always enthusiastic and sing-along-y. Which seemed to take the opener, Jonathan Coulton, a bit by surprize. His own fans were present, vocal, and in good voice, as well. The rest of us picked up and sang along too. One of the best opening acts They Might Be Giants have brought along.



Perhaps a lot of loud music and bright moving lights was not precisely what I needed this week. Chewing ginger gum got me through. I wished I could have stood on the floor in front of the stage and danced along as I used to. Getting too old for this, mostly because of damage. That, and I usually go to bed when they started playing, no night owl me. Still, enjoyed myself.

From 64˚F in the afternoon, it was snowing madly when we came home. Then, the covered parking full last night, we had to take a spot on the street, and move the car by 8 am. Mostly fluffy, salty lake effect snow, not difficult to clean off. Instead of just going around the block to get into the parking, we fetched sausages from the supermarket, me in what I threw on to move the car, hair uncombed. We looked like we'd been up too late and threw on sweats, like everyone else in the aisles. A warm, welcome breakfast.

Air full of snow, cat watching impassively.

Snowish

Not cold enough for more than a raincoat, but tiny pellets of snow melted in my hair as I left work, dusted white the mountains. Shifted to spattering rain lower down. Turning of the season, mild, a bit slow, this year.

The Day of the Dead, All Saints Day, tomorrow All Souls, Dia De Los Muertes. Bring on the dancing skeletons. The Dead Can Dance.

I was the only one yesterday who did anything for Halloween. A Knife Through The Head prop. Made my patients and their families laugh, most of my cow-orkers, got some very nice doubletakes. Deadpanned comments, mostly. Loved making people laugh.

Shed

Moby loves sitting between us, getting his chin scritched. He wraps around my hand and holds on. I gave him a thorough brushing yesterday, got a huge wad of fur off of him. He is not a heavy shedder, but once in a while he seems to be particularly itchy, and will just luxuriate under the brush.



The roses in front of our building. I'm trying to figure out how to do a manual focus on my oh-so-automatic digital camera. The light was strong and strange last evening.


No changes in the leaves, all either green or dead brown. I've seen this happen here before, when the first winter storm just strips the still green leaves, often breaking a lot of branches and taking down whole trees with microburst winds out of the canyons.


It's a lovely cool morning, lots of clouds, some winds. Moby spooked. The blinds blew in on him, and he stares accusingly at me, from the other side of the room now. I'm no help, I just giggle. Poor cat.

Cusp

The season is on the cusp of revolution, over the horizon, but sending harbingers. Change upon the wind, the last of the summer heat, grasping. Tomorrow, tomorrow should be much different, as the wet Pacific front resets all the switches. There may well be snow on the mountains by the weekend.

The gout of emotion and memory has ebbed away, leaving only grime and dampness. There needs to be a word for this, which isn't grief, not even for what wasn't. I'm long past wishing for a different past, or a different set of kin. I am the useful mess I am because of who they were, and what I managed to make of that.

What to call the reaction to the death of someone hated, but somehow important and entwined in one's life? It yanks, hard, on all the other memories. I thought I'd be joyful, relieved, eased in heart. Which is not how it felt. Maybe just because I have witnessed death, and although it causes me no fear, it has my respect. I know how people die, it is a solemn business. The sense of lightness, of a burden laid down has happened, but the weight was already mostly gone anyhow. The last stone, left on the grave.

Calling my brother was the right decision, no question. And I am pleased with myself that I handled that with calm detachment. I listened, asked questions, let him talk, gave away very little. I took in his story of the death of our father, and I translated it into my own version. Failed to get his email address properly, and he didn't make sure. Tried several versions, no response, which is fine. Well, can't say I didn't try. Sorta.

Soon, I will walk in the wind and rain, face into another year, another winter. They begin to blur, but I love the chill no less each time.

Ecru

Strange ecru boredom.
Dull, invariable brown.
Yearning for wild storms.

Dreamed I was in a weird, plotless sci fi film on an alien station under nuclear attack, with lots of corporate logos and a bad soundtrack song, a time-card that wouldn't work, and I had to babysit something - possibly several enormous cats.


For the better part of the last month, the weather has been the same 80 high/60 low every damn day. Three more days of it, and then, possibly, maybe, it will all change.