Nasty Weather - Matthew

I have to admit that I don't remember much about weather-watching before the family moved to Florida in 1961.  I do remember snow when we lived in Millington, Tennessee, and I remember feeling hot and sticky when we lived in Kingsville, Texas.  We moved to Gainesville, Florida a few weeks after I turned 5 years old, and Dad retired from 22 years in the US Navy.  Our house in Florida was a little smaller than our house in Kingsville, but we had a great yard with trees and bushes.  The house floor actually sat about two feet above the ground, so it could breathe and stay cool in the summer.  Gainesville, itself, is about in the middle of the northern peninsula of Florida; it took 90 minutes to drive to either the Atlantic Ocean, or to the Gulf of Mexico.  There was a nice fishing lake about a mile from our house, and lots of little creeks and swampy areas nearby.
    And, as I've frequently mentioned, we (or I) spent most summers on the barrier islands of Chincoteague and Assateague, in the Atlantic Ocean, off the coast of Virginia.  My Grandfather purchased a small lot on Peterson Street and built a catalog-ordered Sears & Roebuck house just before he married Grandma, two weeks after her 16th birthday, in 1915.  The "big kitchen" was added onto the house in 1919, and Grandma chose the wall paper to be used.  It was an oyster-white background, with blue-grey trellises and large old-fashioned English pink roses - some in bloom, some still buds.  Besides the corner with the warped floor boards, so that the rocking chair was permanently tilted back, the thing I remember most about the big kitchen was the wavy brown lines at five different heights, that ran all around the room, marring the wall paper.  (There were six, after the Ash Wednesday Storm in 1962.)
   Now, Momma always kept a decent house - she dusted and cleaned and vacuumed, so nothing was dirty, even though we did have piles of books and magazines all around.  One summer night, after wiping the kitchen table clean, I asked Mom if I should try to wipe away the brown marks on the wall paper.  I think I was six or seven years old at the time, and she explained that those brown marks "were history - the history of the house and the island."  They were the high tide marks of hurricanes and nor'easters and big storms - and they couldn't be washed away.  I think I loved that room even more than the rest of the house, once Mom told me that. The latest owners of Grandpa's house knocked off the kitchen and enclosed the front porch, so the history I grew up with is no longer visible.
   While living in Florida, we saw, via television, what happened during hurricanes.  In Gainesville itself, we had lots of rain, some flooding, and high winds - but we were never hit as hard as places along the coast line.  I lived in Florida, pretty much straight through, from July 1961 until the fall of 1995.  These are the Hurricanes that struck Florida, or near by, while I was there:
1964 -  Cleo and Isabell        1965 - Betsy and Dora     1966 - Alma and Inez     1968 - Gladys
1972 - Agnes     1979 - David     1985 - Elena, Juan, and Kate     1987 - Floyd     1992 - Andrew
1994 - Tropical Storms Alberto and Beryl; Gordon     1995 - Allison and Erin
    And, of course we watched the horrific coverage unfold in 1961 with Hurricanes Carla and Hattie; in 1967 with Hurricane Beulah; Camille in 1969 was devastating; then Celia in 1970 - and Alicia in 1983, Gloria in 1985, and Hugo in 1989.

    I feel so much sympathy for those of my friends, family, and colleagues who are being impacted by Hurricane Matthew.  I know that a lot of folks I know are under evacuation orders, and are not at home with some of their most prized possessions.  I wish I possessed magical powers and could wave my hands, or wriggle my nose, and make the seas and winds calm again.  (No, I do not want to be a God, or God-like.)  I just wish that our coastal areas could enjoy calm weather...  Friends, please let me know if there is anything that I can do for you.  Know that you're in my heart and thoughts...

Devastation in Oklahoma

Having grown up during the Viet Nam War, I got used to seeing napalm bombs and explosions and the aftermath on TV while I was eating supper.  I also lived and worked on a farm, served on a Grand Jury for 6 months, and worked in a teaching hospital for more than eight years, seeing duty in the Emergency Room, the Operating Room, Labor and Delivery, and several Intensive Care Units.  I have seen births and deaths - beautiful, joyous, ugly and heart-rending.  I grew up, essentially, on the East Coast of the United States, in Florida and Virginia; Mom was a Virginian, but my Dad was born in Oklahoma and raised in Kansas, near the Missouri River.  I grew up knowing about hurricanes, while Dad told tales of "twisters."  Mom told us about hurricanes and flooding on the island she grew up on.  Dad countered with the Dust Bowl and tornadoes.  Dad's family thought we were crazy for staying on the East Coast with all the hurricanes; Mom's family thought Dad's family was crazy for living near Tornado Alley.
  Mom and Dad always tantalized me with old family tales of being related to famous families in Europe, and I became a history buff.  I have poured over photos from many wars, trying to understand the minds that could plot and plan such horrific battles.  Looking at photos of the aftermaths of battles and bombings, I have always felt grief - for those lost, for their families, for history lost, and for all the multiple possibilities lost because of the deaths of young men and women.  I realize that is the shape of our world today, but I deplore it.
  Yesterday afternoon, a huge tornado touched down in Moore, Oklahoma, a suburb of Oklahoma City.  The "tip" of the funnel touching the ground is estimated at being one mile wide - and it traveled through Moore on a path more than 40 miles long.  Currently, the winds are estimated at having been about 200 miles per hour.  The devastation is complete and horrific.  It looks as if the town had been bombed off the map - and the tornado swept through two elementary schools, causing multiple deaths.  Seven school children drowned in a shallow pool of water at one school.  Many other students have been rescued from the wreckage overnight.  The search and rescue efforts continue today.  When I arose this morning, the national news was saying that at least 91 people were dead, including 20 children.  That number has now been revised to a somewhat lower number...  But many are still missing.  One young man was working at a horse farm on the outskirts of Moore; he had 80 horses in his care.  When he heard the tornado warning, he turned all the horses loose; he was trapped in a stall.  The barn collapsed around him. The young man survived, as did one of the eighty horses...
  I wrote about studying the photos of battlefields and bombing sites from different wars.  The photos of the results of the tornado yesterday are comparable to the bombings of Berlin, the bombings of London, and the bombs at Nagasaki and Hiroshima.  The devastation is so overwhelming that words cannot really describe what is left.  If you can afford to, please donate to the American Red Cross to aid those in need in Oklahoma.  Thank you.

Poor New Orleans!

Hurricane Isaac seems to be following the same path that Hurricane Katrina did.  While not as powerful as Katrina, Isaac is moving very slowly, and the problem with him will be rising waters, storm surge and flooding rain, not to mention the continuous wind.  At least the state had good warning this time.  At least FEMA, the US government, and the state and local governments had lots of warning.  At least it was announced that there would be no evacuation centers of last resort, like the Convention Center and the Super Dome.  It just doesn't seem fair that the city is getting smacked again, seven years to the day that Katrina brought such ruin.
  It's currently 82 degrees here in Boulder, the sky is mostly overcast, there is quite a breeze blowing about 20 to 30 feet above the ground, and we have 30% humidity.  Walking the red kids this morning seemed a breeze, but I was covered with sweat by the time we finished - and my hair is still soaked with sweat, almost an hour later.  I let the kits run outside for 90 minutes this morning, before I left to walk the dogs, and I opened the patio door as soon as I got back.  Nedi has popped in and out, but Lovey is staying in the cat tree.  (At least Katrina's legacy to me was the gift of Lovey in my life!)
  I had to take a dose of meclizine this morning - with three minutes left in the Jets game Sunday night, I broke out into a cold sweat, was nauseated, and couldn't get my eyes to focus.  I was terribly dizzy, and couldn't walk, even to bed, without having something to hold onto, to keep me erect. When I was in bed, I turned my head to the left, and lost the world in a vortex of vertigo.  I was able to function yesterday with meds, but this morning, I kept making mis-steps, so I finally medicated myself before heading out for the always rambunctious Irish Setters.  With the constant sound of the wind in the tree leaves outside, I'm having a hard time keeping myself "feeling steady"  right now.  Mom used to have the same problem, so at least I know it's not something personal!

50 Degrees at 9 a.m.

Leofgifu has decided the best place for herself is between me and the keyboard this morning. I have moved her multiple times, but this is her chosen place. Banichi is sprawled under one of the bird feeders, even though it's not occupied. A big change in the weather for today - yesterday it was 85 with lots of sunshine, right now it's 50, overcast, and breezy. There were a few brief showers last night; I have the patio door and the window wide open for cool fresh air.

Gustav is dissipating, Hanna is moving toward the Carolina Coast, Ike is headed north, and Josephine has formed out in the Atlantic. I love the fact that I'm now living in Colorado, but I miss seeing George Winterling's hurricane coverage from WJXT in Jacksonville, Florida. I understand that George is the meteorologist emeritus at WJXT now, but he is always there for hurricane coverage. Bravo for George!!! He's the only weatherman my father really trusted.

One of the local ravens was "clicking" at me most of yesterday evening, and he's back in the tree next to the privacy fence again this morning - and he's still clicking at me, too. Several sparrows have now visited the bird feeder and discovered that there is food there; and a chickadee and a nuthatch have visited the shell-less sunflower feeder and seem to be satisfied. A driver in south Denver has collided with an elk, and one of the major roads into Denver is now closed down. The elk did not survive - no report as yet on the driver.