The cold front that passed yesterday now has a ripple on it, and the mild air that was pushed south is trying to push back north, but unable to do so at the surface, so instead it is over-running the cold air that continues to flow south from the arctic high passing to our north. Rather than the frontal passage giving us blue skies and brisk northwest winds, the skies are gray and the wind is light, but slipping around to just east of north. All the signs are there for some mischief moving up from the south.
I have a cold and am in no mood for snow. What I’d rather do is lay about and conduct a study of how a cold suppresses my sense of humor. It is funny how things that seemed funny are not the slightest bit funny, once a cold lays you low. Perhaps what causes the cold is a lack of humor.
The weather bureau has just come out with an advisory for one to three inches of snow, turning to freezing rain, starting this afternoon.
UPDATE — 9:00 AM
It’s been a divided morning. If you looked out a north window there wasn’t a cloud in the spotless blue sky, but if you looked out a south window the sun was a smudge in the grey overcast. The dividing line was directly overhead overhead, but was shifting south, because the cold high pressure was winning for the moment, and the cold front was still settling south. Pressures have risen slightly to over 30.70 Hg (1040 mb) as the temperature has stubbornly refused to rise, standing at 26 (-3 Celsius).
On Tuesdays I only have to open the Childcare, watch kids for an hour, and then get one group of six onto the school bus, and then load another group of six into the van and drive them to half-day-kindergarten, as another group of smaller children comes trooping in to take their place. I’m done by 8:30, but for some reason it always feels like a four hour shift. Time drags, because there is seldom enough time to do much. Sometimes I’ll take some of the older children off on a brief hike to see if we can see any wildlife, but they make such a racket there’s seldom even a chickadee in sight. I often have the feeling the clock has stopped and the bus will never come. It makes me a bit crazy, and I create puns and bad jokes out of a sort of desperation, attempting to keep my brains from withering away. The bus-children are old enough to know a bad joke is bad, and groan and tell me to stop, which is a break from me constantly telling them to stop their mischief. However the kindergarteners think I am hilarious. They ask for more. I have the status of a rock star.
Today I was feeling particularly bored and crazy, due to my cold, and, because some only had light jackets and were complaining about being cold, when they bugged me for a story I told them about a person who went to buy a new jacket with a lining of fleece, but all the jackets he tried on made him feel incredibly itchy. When he complained the salesman said, “What do you expect from a jacket with a lining of fleas?”
My word. You’d think I was the funniest man on earth. I decided life wasn’t so bad. I always did have a secret desire to be a rock star, and now at long last I get to taste the experience. The best thing is I don’t have to make up new stories all the time. They want to hear the old ones over and over, sort of like a rock star who is a one-hit-wonder.
Just since I began writing strato-cumulus has come sliding up from the southeast. The higher clouds are from the west. The stovepipe’s smoke says the wind is from the east-northeast. Something is brewing.
UPDATE —2:00 pm—
Temperature 30; Barometer 30.65, winds have shifted more to the east. Low clouds still from southeast.
Heading back to the Childcare after stocking up the porch with firewood here. They’ll like a bright fire out in the pasture, this grey afternoon.
UPDATE —7:45 PM—
Temperature 27 Pressure 30.60
Tiny snow grains began falling at around 2:30, amounting to only a speckling by 6:30, when abruptly fat snowflakes began mixing in, giving us a quarter inch before tapering off around 7:30. On the radar it looks all the world like a warm front, with a following cold front, but the Satellite shows the secondary far to the south in Tennessee.
AFTERWARD —6:00 AM WEDNESDAY—
Temperatures are just nudging above freezing, with the pressure down to 30.15 Hg, (1200 mb). There is about an inch of slush to clean up from the walkways, so I guess I’ve call this storm #7. The edge of the precipitation is over us and moving away to the northeast.
I was meaning to write last night about the fire in the pasture yesterday afternoon, and the humor of finding I was the only sniffling person who needed it to stay warm. I took out our plastic sleds, and every child was on the hillside sledding. If anything they were too hot, from running up the hill to sled down again. The snow left from the Thanksgiving snow was crusty, and the the sledding was fast. The clouds made the early darkness even earlier, but the children didn’t seem to mind the dusk turning to a deep purple. I found myself locating them by their voices, rather than using my eyes, towards the end. My campfire blinded me, but when I walked away from it I discovered the sledding hill was slightly lit by the orange flames. When parents pulled in to pick up their children their headlights lit a hillside swarming with zooming sleds. It was a scene, and a sound, well worth describing, but my cold sent me swiftly to bed last night. Sometimes even a writer finds a pillow more attractive than a pen.
The map shows that, in the short term, the warmth hasn’t come surging back north like it did last time…yet. So I’ve got an inch of slush to go clean up at the entrance to the Childcare.