I know it may seem like I already posted a version of this a few years ago, but ... maybe it just blew by again.

severe weather cow.webp
Cow.




            I complain about winter weather a lot, so maybe it's time to complain about something else:
 
            Spring weather.
 
            Yes, spring arrived, kind of, at least temporarily. We had snow over the weekend, grass fires today, and the promise of thunderstorms in Indiana this week. The weather people are talking about a bomb cyclone west of us that could drop the barometric pressure so low it equals a category 2 hurricane. Right now that same area is under a red flag fire warning.
 
            Also, notice the winter storm warnings in California.
 
            In a Hoosier spring we often have a traditional ice storm during basketball playoffs. It's actually possible to have an ice/fire tornado, if the conditions are right. I mean, wrong.
 
            So it comes as no surprise that the Governor was delayed by snow drifts on his way to declare March 9 through 15 Severe Weather Preparedness Week. I’d have done it myself if security hadn’t kicked me out of his office.
 
            As part of the celebration … er … observation, the State of Indiana educates, conducts alert system tests, and otherwise tries to keep people from getting killed. Honestly, nothing brings down a wonderful spring day like death.
 
 
Severe weather evening.jpg
 
            I thought I'd help out despite the Governor's restraining order, so let me explain what watch and warning levels and storm terms are:
 
            A Watch means you can stay at your cookout, gaze at the blue sky and make fun of the weatherman right up until the first wind gust blows away your “kiss the cook” hat.
 
            A Warning means that if you haven’t sought shelter, you will die.
 
            A Funnel Cloud should not be mistaken for a funnel cake, which generally kills only one person at a time. Funnel clouds are just tornadoes that haven’t touched the ground; maybe they will, maybe they won’t. If you want to gamble, go to Vegas. Just to make it more fun, sometimes tornadoes reach the ground and start tearing things up even though the bottom part is still invisible. You could be looking at a “funnel cloud” right up until the moment your mobile home changes zip codes.
 
Severe weather funnel cloud.jpg
A funnel cloud in Dekalb County, Indiana. No, I wasn't going to get any closer.

 
 
            A Tornado is really, really bad.
 
            Straight Line Winds can cause as much damage as tornadoes, but aren’t associated with rotation. You can often tell the damage path of these winds by the people standing in the debris, insisting it was a tornado.
 
            A Squall Line is what happens when I forget my wedding anniversary.
 
            Thunderstorms are storms that produce thunder. See what I did, there?
 
            Lighting kills more people than tornadoes, but of course tornadoes are more fun … um … attention grabbing. Tornadoes are like people (okay, men) who get drunk and try to jump motorcycles over sheds using homemade ramps: They’re senseless, spectacular, injury rates are high, and nothing good results except to remind people they’re bad.
 
            Just the same, lightning is also no fun, and can strike miles from where you think the storm is. Of people struck by lightning, 70% suffered serious long-term effects, 10% are permanently killed, and 20% don’t admit being hurt, or didn’t hear the question.
 
            The average forward speed of a tornado is 30 mph, but they can travel up to 70 mph … or remain motionless, which is really unfortunate if you happen to be under one at the time.
 
            The average width of the funnel on the ground is about 100 yards. And, like a flatulent Godzilla, that doesn’t include the wind damage around it. Some can get over a mile wide. (Tornadoes, I mean, not gassy Godzillas.) If you think about it, trying to outrun a 70 mph, mile wide tornado in a car is about as smart as trying to jump a shed from a homemade ramp after your tenth beer.
 
            Tornadoes are most likely from April to June, which means pretty much nothing these days. The last time I took an airplane flight it was delayed by a tornado—in November.
 
So, when do you need to prepare for severe weather? Anytime. Remember, no matter what the season, it only takes a few beers to start building a ramp.
 
 
 
 
Severe weather morning.jpg
 

 
You can read our storm related books, and the other ones, here:


·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"
·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter
·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/
·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/
·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/
·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914
·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/
·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter
·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter
·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter
·        Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914
·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914
·        Audible:  https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

 
Remember, every time you buy a book, Godzilla rolls over and goes back to sleep. Save Tokyo.
 

The other day I was at Wal-Mart (wearing two layers of pajamas--brrrr), when I ran into a polar bear shopping for winter coats. "Shouldn't you be up north?" I asked.

"Nah, I'm tired of the cold. I'm heading to the Gulf Coast. Hopefully this Arctic air won't keep following me."

Then he took off south in his Tundra. I don't know what happened to him, but I have a feeling he's not happy.

Shall we talk about the weather? Everything west of the Rocky Mountains is burning, everything east is freezing. It's like a Rankin/Bass stop motion special about Hell.

The Heat Miser and Cold Miser battle over Las Vegas.

 

I told everyone: "Don't welcome 2025! Wait until you get to know it better!" Well, here it is, and now we know it just fine.

It can be argued that this is just a continuation of 2024, anyway. The Hawaii fires were last August. Hurricane Helene decided it wanted a mountain vacation back in September, so it headed for the Appalachian Mountains--and flattened them.

Sure, a lot of people up there are in tents and are running short of propane, but it's the South--at least it won't be too cold. Will it?

Getting really tired of the term "record breaking".

 

Here in northern Indiana we had, as the British might say, "a bit of a cool spell". The high temperature earlier in the week was 30 degrees lower than normal. At one point, the wind chill factor was minus 30 degrees. Fahrenheit. It made me a little nostalgic for the late 70s and 80s, when the phrase was "another weekend, another snowstorm".

Back then Time Magazine produced an article titled "Another Ice Age?" (From 1974. I was convinced I saw that title on the cover in 1977, but it didn't happen.) Global cooling was taken seriously by a lot of people, although even then others warned about global warming. Some of my favorite science fiction stories back then were about efforts to survive the oncoming glaciers.

 

 

 

As for me, I was deliriously happy when I found out the globe was warming instead of cooling. Then I read a science journal article predicting a few areas of the planet might actually get cooler, even as the rest warmed up.

And guess what winter-hating blogger lives in one of those areas?

But there's a difference between climate and weather, and right now the Cold Miser has told the Heat Miser to "hold my pina colada, and watch this". As awful as our Indiana weather has been, this is a mild spot in the country.

A blizzard warning on the Gulf Coast of Texas and Louisiana. A blizzard warning. Snow working its way up the southern states. A snowstorm in New Orleans.

New Orleans! The place looks like North Dakota.

Imagine if they had their Mardi Gras now. All those poor guys with thousands of beads, and they can't get the inebriated ladies to show anything. Have you ever had a frostbit nipple? Okay, neither have I, but I have had frostbitten fingers, toes, ears, and cheeks (on my face, mind you), and I can imagine.

(I wonder what kind of drink a frostbit nipple would be?)

 

"I don't feel jazzed at all."

 Instead, the guys would yell, "Show us your flannel!"

 

And the women would unzip their coats, unbutton their quilted shirts, and show their flannel. Why? Because if they can get enough beads, it's another layer of insulation.

So the disasters keep coming, so fast one is still going on when the next one strikes. If you want to keep track, hope the Weather Channel shows a split screen. Or, you could invest in a few more TVs and have each playing a different channel. That may seem extreme, but I have friends in all the disaster areas, not to mention I've always been a weather nerd, anyway.

Still, I wouldn't mind a break from the weather. I'll bet I'm not the only one.



 

 

Get our storm and non-storm related books here:

 

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

·        Audible:  https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

 

Remember: Books make a good wind break.



 I'm reposting this blog from last summer because, let's face it, you could post something about heat waves every summer. Okay, I'm actually doing it because I was busy working on the Haunted Noble County project and ran out of time. But they're talking about a 100 degree heat index tomorrow--something other parts of the country have been seeing all summer--so it still fits.

 _____________________________________________

 

This week has been so hot, "so hot" jokes have been trending.

There's only so much you can do with them, of course--they've been around a long time. One of the original European settlers, in the Roanoke Colony of Virginia, left a note that said "it's so hot we're moving to Plymouth". The settlers were never heard from again, after apparently getting lost on the Washington, D.C. beltway.

Just the same, it's been so hot even I've been uncomfortable, not that I'd admit it. I'd still take a heat wave over a cold snap, but that doesn't mean I like either one. I went out to mow the lawn at 9 a.m. the other day, and ended up going through five water bottles: Three in me and two over me. It was so hot the lawn mower started flashing an error light that said "water me".

 

"You think I'm leaving the shade without a drink, first? You just filled me with gasoline!"

 

 

I didn't know it even had error lights.

Fun fact: In order to clean my mower you have to connect a garden hose, which sprays water all over the inside of the mower deck while it runs, to clean the grass off. So, you DO have to water it.

Naturally, it's not just the heat up here. Last week was so humid that, after I mowed, I had to step into the shower to dry off. Relax, I'm not posting any photos of that.

Anything that was in full sunlight started to glow red, unless it was already red, in which case it started to glow orange. The fire hydrant down the street called me over and begged me to let my dog pee on it. I refused, being worried about steam burns.


"Don't worry about me peeing back at you, I can hold my water."

 

At one point the humidity level was 140%, which translated to a heat index of, and I quote, "broil". Jim Cantore came over from The Weather Channel to investigate how the humidity can actually be higher than 100%, and his cameraman drowned. Meanwhile, three people were blinded when the sun shone of Cantore's head. He was heard to say, "I'd rather have thundersnow". Speak for yourself, fella.

But I took advantage of it by letting the air conditioner drain its water into a bucket outside, then using the bucket to water my plants. By the way, if anyone needs any planters, I, uh, killed all my flowers with scalding water.

It's been especially rough for people who don't have air conditioners--or for people with no power at all, including the ones hit by the most recent thunderstorms and derechos. (It is too a real word--shut up, spell check.)

I tried to honor their crisis by going outside, at least long enough to mow the lawn. Their general response was that I was crazy, and could they stop by for several hours?

Anyway, eventually I had to go out again, to let the dog water that hydrant. The dog's response? "Um, no thanks ... I'll hold it."

"Nope. Uh-uh, not until the next cold snap hits in August."

 
 
 

 


Remember, every time you forget to hydrate a writer passes out. They have enough problems.

 Ironically, I got busy with the weather and didn't get a new blog written--but this one's from nine years ago, and in internet terms it might as well be brand new.


            I complain about winter weather a lot, so maybe it's time to complain about something else:

            Spring weather.

            Yes, spring arrived, kind of, like the proverbial lion. The last day of March brought us a tornado watch and thunderstorm warning. However, considering the blizzard warning in Minnesota and South Dakota--at the same time tornadoes raged through much of the nation--I won't complain.
 
Oh, who am I kidding?
 
In a Hoosier spring we can have a snowstorm one day, a flood the next, grass fires the day after that, and the traditional ice storm during basketball playoffs. It's actually possible to have an ice/fire tornado, if the conditions are right. I mean, wrong.
 
So it comes as no surprise that the Governor was delayed by snow drifts on his way to declare March 12 through 18 Severe Weather Preparedness Week. I’d have done it myself if security hadn’t kicked me out of his office.

            I waited to put this out until after that week, so if something horrible happened it wouldn’t seem like I was going for ironic.

            As part of the celebration … er … observation, the State of Indiana educates, conducts alert system tests, and otherwise tries to keep people from getting killed. Honestly, nothing brings down a wonderful spring day like death.
 

 

            I thought I'd help out despite the Governor's restraining order, so let me explain what watch and warning levels and storm terms are:

            A Watch means you should stay at your cookout, gaze at the blue sky and make fun of the weatherman right up until the first wind gust blows away your “kiss the cook” hat.

            A Warning means that if you haven’t sought shelter, you will die.

            A Funnel Cloud should not be mistaken for a funnel cake, which generally kills only one person at a time. Funnel clouds are just tornadoes that haven’t touched the ground; maybe they will, maybe they won’t. If you want to gamble, go to Vegas. Just to make it more fun, sometimes tornadoes reach the ground and start tearing things up even though the bottom part is still invisible. You could be looking at a “funnel cloud” right up until the moment your mobile home changes zip codes.
 
A funnel cloud. And no, I wasn't going to get any closer.

 

            A Tornado is really, really bad.

            Straight Line Winds can cause as much damage as tornadoes, but aren’t associated with rotation. You can often tell the damage path of these winds by finding people who are standing in the debris, insisting it was a tornado.

            A Squall Line is what happens when I forget my wedding anniversary.

            Thunderstorms are storms that produce thunder. See what I did, there?

            Lighting kills more people than tornadoes, but of course tornadoes are more fun … um … attention grabbing. Tornadoes are like people who get drunk and try to jump motorcycles over sheds using homemade ramps: They’re senseless, spectacular, injury rates are high, and in the end nothing good comes from them except to remind people they’re bad.

            Just the same, lightning is also no fun, and can strike miles away from where you think the storm is. Of people struck by lightning, 70% suffered serious long term effects, 10% are permanently killed, and 20% don’t admit being hurt, or didn’t hear the question.

            The average forward speed of a tornado is 30 mph, but they can travel up to 70 mph … or remain motionless, which is really unfortunate if you happen to be under one at the time.

            The average width of the funnel on the ground is about 100 yards. Think about that. And, like a flatulent Godzilla, that doesn’t include the wind damage around it. Some can get over a mile wide. (Tornadoes, I mean, not gassy Godzillas. Wow.) If you think about it, trying to outrun a 70 mph, mile wide tornado in a car is about as smart as trying to jump a shed from a homemade ramp after your tenth beer.

            Tornadoes are most likely from April to June, which means pretty much nothing these days. The last time I took an airplane flight it was delayed by a tornado—in November.

So, when do you need to prepare for severe weather? Anytime. Remember, no matter what the season, it only takes a few beers to start building a ramp.


 

 
Remember, every time you buy a book, Godzilla rolls over and goes back to sleep. Save Tokyo.
 
 

 As a group, humans have an amazing ability to screw themselves.

Not literally, mind you. I mean, if we could do that, we'd never leave the house.

Whenever bad weather approaches, I take it upon myself to warn people as much as I'm able, for two reasons: First, it's the decent thing to do. This is a foreign concept for some people, but it's not like it takes a lot of resources to type "Funnel cloud sighted! And by the way, buy my books in the Storm Chaser series."

Okay, so I throw in a commercial here and there: So does The Weather Channel.

Meh ... I've seen worse.

The second reason is laziness. I'm a dispatcher, and whenever severe weather hits we're guaranteed to be a lot busier. I don't like being a lot busier. A little busy is just fine, thank you.

So as soon as the experts (I'm not an expert--it turns out the words "meteorology" and "degree" go together) predicted foul weather for the upcoming Christmas weekend, I shouted it from the rooftops.

Okay, well, I shouted it from social media. Nobody really listens on the rooftops, anymore. Besides, it's slippery up there.

Some people appreciate the warning, and I like to think I've saved them some trouble, here and there. But the biggest response weather forecasts get is "Yeah, whatever--they're always wrong".

Which isn't true, but it is true that bad weather is notoriously difficult to predict in detail. Good weather's much easier--go figure.

Which brings us to the second and more common response: "Yeah, it probably won't even flurry." Followed by two parties and twelve beers, because we're talking about people who don't recognize danger signs.

"What's this crap? Why was I not notified?"

 

As of this moment, late Monday, forecasters are guaranteeing two things in northern Indiana this weekend: It'll be bitterly cold, and it'll be so windy I'll be bitter. It also appears pretty certain that--surprise!--the whole thing will begin with rain on Thursday.

More rain means less snow. I'm all for that, except for the strong cold front and the whole flash freezing thing. Flash Freezing is not a DC comic villain, people.

Everyone is stressing over snow, and as of now the forecast really is between 2 and 18 inches. It depends on the track of the storm and how far the wind drives lake effect snow, but here's the part people ignore: While we may get the low end of that scale, there's no reason why we shouldn't get the high end. To compare, during the Blizzard of '78 Fort Wayne got about 17 inches of snow. Somebody in the Midwest is going to get that much this weekend. Why not us?

Given the choice, I'd prefer my car remain in the driveway. All winter.

 

Forget snow amounts, and consider this: There is more than one kind of blizzard. One type often happens after snowstorms, when sustained strong winds blow the fallen snow around, causing drifting and extreme driving hazards.

Snow, followed by cold temps and long-term strong winds?

That's the forecast for this weekend.

So I'm just the messenger, with some reminders:

Four wheel drive is useless on ice. The only good your big truck might do is help compensate for something.

Many emergency vehicles and tow trucks do NOT have four wheel drive, and 4WD might not get through severe drifting, anyway. So if you have to go out, stock your vehicle with whatever you might need to survive for awhile.

Most county and municipal snow plows will not be out 24/7. They have only one shift, and the drivers need rest. If you have to go out stick to main roads, but remember: If it gets bad enough long enough, the Indiana Department of Transportation might have to pull their plows off the road, also.

If your employer requires you to come to work no matter what the road conditions, you need a new employer. Or let them come pick you up, if they think it's not bad. With the exception of essential jobs (like mine, but I can slog down the sidewalk), there's no reason to endanger someone for the sake of a paycheck.

Utility companies also can't come out if the roads are blocked. Make preparations for long-term power outages.

Here's the fun part: Almost everything done to prepare for a snowstorm should be done to prepare for any disaster or weather emergency. Food, water, medicine, warmth, books, not necessarily in that order.

You might think I'm kidding about the books, but if you have kids at home you need to look after your own sanity, and locking them in the garage is not socially acceptable. Remember, whatever they do to pass the time, they'll run out of battery power sooner or later.

As for me, don't you worry: I may have to work this weekend, but I'll dress warmly.

My other car is a sleigh!

 

Don't forget, Coming Attractions remains free on Smashwords for the rest of the year:

 

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

And as usual, find all our books here:

 

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

 

 


 

 This week has been so hot, "so hot" jokes have been trending.

There's only so much you can do with them, of course--they've been around a long time. One of the original European settlers, in the Roanoke Colony of Virginia, left a note that said "it's so hot we're moving to Plymouth". The settlers were never heard from again, after apparently getting lost on the Washington, D.C. beltway.

Just the same, it's been so hot even I've been uncomfortable, not that I'd admit it. I'd still take a heat wave over a cold snap, but that doesn't mean I like either one. I went out to mow the lawn at 9 a.m. the other day, and ended up going through five water bottles: Three in me and two over me. It was so hot the lawn mower started flashing an error light that said "water me".

 

"You think I'm leaving the shade without a drink, first? You just filled me with gasoline!"

 

 

I didn't know it even had error lights.

Fun fact: In order to clean my mower you have to connect a garden hose, which sprays water all over the inside of the mower deck while it runs, to clean the grass off. So, you DO have to water it.

Naturally, it's not just the heat up here. This week the relative humidity was relatively low, but last week was so humid that, after I mowed, I had to step into the shower to dry off. Relax, I'm not posting any photos of that.

Anything that was in full sunlight started to glow red, unless it was already red, in which case it started to glow orange. The fire hydrant down the street called me over and begged me to let my dog pee on it. I refused, being worried about steam burns.


"Don't worry about me peeing back at you, I can hold my water."

 

You'd think the humidity would satisfy it. At one point the humidity level was 140%, which translated to a heat index of, and I quote, "broil". Jim Cantore came over from The Weather Channel to investigate how the humidity can actually be higher than 100%, and his cameraman drowned. Meanwhile, three people were blinded when the sun shone of Cantore's head. He was heard to say, "I'd rather have thundersnow". Speak for yourself, fella.

But I took advantage of it by letting the air conditioner drain its water into a bucket outside, then using the bucket to water my plants. By the way, if anyone needs any planters, I, uh, killed all my flowers with scalding water.

It's been especially rough for people who don't have air conditioners--or for people who had no power at all, including the ones south and west of my home who were hit by the latest derecho. (It is too a real word--shut up, spell check.)

I tried to honor their crisis by going outside, at least long enough to mow the lawn. Their general response was that I was crazy, and could they stop by for several hours?

Anyway, eventually I had to go out again, to let the dog water that hydrant. The dog's response? "Um, no thanks ... I'll hold it."

"Nope. Uh-uh, not until the next cold snap hits in July."

 
 

 

.

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Powered by Dreamwidth Studios

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags