Another day closer to the weather and we’re coming to the realization that it’ll hit us but good.
There are some things we have to keep in mind about winter in the South. First, it is hard to forecast. This is a dynamic region and the one-two punch we’re getting this week has major elements coming from the west, down from the north and up from the Gulf of Mexico. The forecast models change almost by the hour.
Meteorologists are more than happy to share those long-range models and, I’m half-convinced, they just confuse people who really shouldn’t be confused about winter weather.
Also, it isn’t the snow that’s the problem. Except when it is. Our snow is usually wet. And what often happens is the snow melts, the temperature drops and then we have great sheets of ice over everything. You drive on that.
You drive on that, because I’m staying inside.
And all of that may happen again this week. Most of the worst of it, right now, seems to be aiming for Georgia and the Carolinas. But we’ll have plenty, thanks.
Already the weather has canceled the student newspaper this week. It is due out tomorrow, but the printer is to our north, and they are expecting to get walloped. So on and on the fun goes.
To take our minds off that fun, here’s a shot of Allie, The Black Cat, sunbathing on Sunday:
That afternoon we decided, hey, it is a beautiful day, let’s run a sprint triathlon.
So we went to the pool. I had my new goggles and we swam our 650 yards. I started out too fast, which was a paradoxical decision as I am slow in the pool. And so I suffered with that for a while. I figured I would redeem myself on the bicycle, where I thought I would be able to hammer it a bit. So down the big hill and up the smaller, other side. Around part of the bypass, up another hill through campus. I got stopped at a red light, turned around and there was The Yankee. I was sure she would be nowhere to be found, but she was having a great ride.
Up through an old neighborhood, hang a left and then a right. I took a road I don’t think I’ve ever pedaled on before, but a road where we once looked at two houses. I finished the 14-mile route just a minute or two before she did, but she also caught a light I did not.
So I guess I’ll have to win in the run. We ran the first half of our 5K together, because it wasn’t a race. It was a beautiful, glorious, day for an hour and change outside, in shorts and t-shirts, in the sunshine.
We ran a sprint triathlon on a whim, making us those people. Last summer I did three of them, suffering and struggling and dreading them and only enjoying them after they were over — enjoying the knowledge that I’d completed them. (For this I get to thank Bud Frankenthaler, who two years ago I watched finishing a triathlon at the age of 79. If he could do it, the rest of us don’t have a lot of excuses, right? Thanks Mr. Frankenthaler. He will probably outpace me somewhere this year, too.) Today there were no bib numbers, no massage table, no timing chips. We did it for fun. Had a great time, too. I want to do it again. Let’s go next weekend.
I do not know what is happening.
Tomorrow we’ll have snow.
Things to read … because links will keep us all warm.
These are just the links, enjoy clicking through the ones that interest you.
Writing headlines that get clicks
IndyStar staffers read your mean comments
Drone use highlights questions for journalists
First Listen: St. Paul And The Broken Bones, ‘Half The City’ — This is a good band, a local group, that’s about to make it big. Some of the musicians are from Samford, too.
And now I’m going to go buy things on the Internet. Who delivers milk and bread?
