Nana has tales to tell, and thoughts to share.

Posts tagged ‘weather’

Hot, Hot, Hot


You get the idea.  It is a tad on the warm side today.    Hot, hot, hot.  Those who live in the Southwestern states would say, “Yah, but it’s a DRY heat.”  Don’t try to kid me.   Hot is Hot.  If I enjoyed hot weather I would move to Arizona.

Unfortunately it is not a ‘dry heat’ today.  It is MUGGY.  Which is worse.  If I enjoyed muggy heat, I’d move to Florida.

I am one of those who just melt as the mercury rises.  I’m as good as a wet dishrag.  An unmotivated wet dishrag.  I sit, I sweat, and I complain.  Lovely, huh?

I guess that is why it is a good thing  God blessed us with different types of climates; so us fuss-budgets could have a choice as to favored environments.  I have lived most of my life in the Midwest.  The northern Midwest.  I spent a pleasant time living in coastal Washington with its marine climate.  Not too hot, not too cold, it was just right.

Presently I live a shade north of the geographical enter of Minnesota.  I haven’t lived here long, but I have noticed that it is all about location, location, location.  All the bad weather stays south of us.  Big snow storm coming?  Southern Minnesota gets dumped on.  Tornadoes, severe thunderstorms, heat waves?  All south of us.

I wish I could say that northern Minnesota is always this paradise.  Once every decade or so the temps do hit three digits.   But for us fragile melty types, a great deal of the time our environment suits us just fine.

Yah, it’s a hot one today; but tomorrow promises thunderstorms.  Which means southern Minnesota will get the thunderstorms, and we’ll get some rain with a drop to more tolerable temps.  I may be a bit testy today, but I know it won’t stay this way long.  Praise the Lord for different climates!


The Waiting Game

Yesterday we went shopping.  Thoughts of moving to Minnesota have set visions of Arctic blizzards in the head of Papa Bear, and he has finally conceded that he needs a new winter coat.  After all, it is his job to take the dog out;  and if we move to the Arctic winters of Minnesnota, he wants to be ready.  I recall the same mindset years ago when we moved from temperate Seattle to wild Wisconsin.  Papa Bear remembered tales his mother had told about blinding blizzards on the prairie farm where she grew up.   Winter weather had him a bit nervous that first year.

That’s one way to get him into a nice looking, warm winter jacket.  No rips, holes,  smells, or blood stains from butchering turkeys.

Last weekend we went to visit the children in northern Minnesota, and scout out the apartment scene.  Strange, but apparently in a big touristy region, they don’t find the need for many apartments.  The pickings weren’t plentiful.  It seemed we had a choice between meth-lab neighbors, or high-rise high rent apartments.  Finally we were just driving aimlessly around the general area we were interested in.  The was one possibility left.  Online research had not been promising on this one, but we were getting discouraged.  We stopped to take a look.  And wouldn’t you know it, after showing us four different available apartments, the last one was the one that said ‘home’.  Oh! the manager forgot to mention – if we sign a year’s lease, we get a discount on the rent!

Wonderful, glorious, heaven-sent!

We just need to pass a thorough background check and have our application approved…

They seem a little paranoid in Minnesnota.

Maybe they are just fussy about who they let stay in their winter wonderland.

So, for a week we have been back, here at home, just sitting in limbo. Waiting.  Will we be accepted?  Should we start packing?  How much should we weed out, and leave behind?  Do I give notice at the station?  And what if they say ‘NO’?

I really hate this waiting in limbo.  Once again I know that God is giving me an opportunity to practice patience and trust.  Trust that the Lord will make things work for us according to His Good Measure.  And patience – because it will all come to pass in God’s Good Time.

At least we got Papa Bear ready for winter – where ever!

The Gales of November

Gordon Lightfoot first penned it.
My sister referenced it.
My cousin quoted it.
And now I have it stuck in my head.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy.

With a load of iron ore – 26,000 tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty
That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early.

The lyrics are from the song “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” written way back in the 1970’s.  Why bring it  up today?  Because it’s still October, and as my sister said, “The gales of November are early.”

Our modern, advanced, high-tech meteorologists have been tracking and forecasting this week’s hazardous weather for days.  Theoretically, we should all be prepared for the rain and high winds that are heading our way.  Yet, when I woke up this morning to the thunderous sounds of our steel pipe wind chimes banging away outside our neighbor’s bedroom window, I was taken aback by the angry clouds, the rain, and the wind.

When the gales of November come early.

It’s going to be a quiet day business wise at the gas station. Who wants to get out of their car and pump gas in this weather?  The customers that do come, will stagger in the door and say, “Man, is that wind bad!”  And as they brace themselves for the journey back to their car, I will say,

“Don’t get blown away!”

A clever conversationalist, aren’t I.  Now, if they were interested and willing to stick around, I could go into a detailed discussion about the effects of La Nina and the jet streams on our local environment… but I tend to get the glassy-eyed look as they edge their way to the door.  So I refrain.

When the gales of November come early.

I sit here as the wind howls and the rain slashes against the windows, and ponder the power that makes up this storm.  If only we were advanced enough to harness this power and use it for our benefit!  The day is coming, I know, when we will harness the wind, the rain, and the sun.  We will probably pat ourselves on the back and bask in the glow of our ingenuity.  We can track the weather, predict the weather, harness the energy of the weather; but will we ever control the weather?


All we can do is complain about the weather and then move on.  Sometimes it takes a Hurricane Katrina, or the wreck of the Edmond Fitzgerald, to remind us that modern as we are, we are not so mighty that we can control the weather.

When the gales of November come early

Only God can control the weather.  And only God can calm the storms.

Jesus Stills the Storm