Was it hot in Ukiah last week? It was Thursday when the sun quit spinning in the sky and the meteorologist heat index registered between OMG and WTF.
Yeah, well I’m a Buckeye. Weather in Ohio ranges from torturous to illegal. If I’d stayed in Cleveland I’d have been frozen dead-solid in January and a hot gooey puddle by July.
California? Ha. I laughed at weather in California until I got to North Carolina. A veteran of all, here are condensed yearly weather accounts:
Cleveland
January: Global freezing ice age cold, snowflakes wear down vests.
February: Screaming cold, but only for 28 days.
March: Cool with potholes.
April: Opening Day at Municipal Stadium; Oops, snowing again.
May: Storms, isolated reports of flowers.
June: Mosquitoes.
July: Open window, instant sweat.
August: Surface of sun; outdoor activities banned.
September: Tiny black bugs.
October: Bonfires.
November: Winter preview.
December: Lights, festival of Red & Green.
Ukiah
January: Drought or else 90 days of rain; canoes distributed citywide.
February: Flowers, budding stuff.
April: Chill winds crush flowers, blossoms, crops, hope.
May: Cool with hoodies and hints of January.
June: Sunscreen, parasols.
July: Outdoor activities (walking, opening doors) banned.
August: California lawmakers remove it from calendars.
September: Football.
October: Winter Water Tuneup.
November, December: Rain, flooding, heavy precipitation and storms. Canoes distributed citywide.
North Carolina
January: Afternoon skies oddly dark.
February: Corn, Tobacco harvests delayed two days.
March: First sightings of sunbathing squirrels, chipmunks.
April, May, June: TV meteorologist calls weather “Seasonally Cute.”
July: Take Crocs from freezer, put ’em on, away I go.
August: Clear off shelf in fridge to spend my afternoons. Keep door shut to avoid light bulb heat.
September: Foliage, falling tree limbs.
October: Owls, cicadas, lightning bugs.
November: Seems darker; did time change?
December: Icy porch, frozen pipes; terrorist attacks suspected.
All I know after Ukiah’s blast furnace tsunami is that I really must mend my ways. Hell is simply not an option.
Around Town
I like the downtown streetscape having cement ponds for dolphins and crab. Raccoons holding weekend sushi nights will provide children an education on nature’s food chain.
For generations the shrubbery at Bush and Low Gap brought smiles from pedestrians, and vehicles stopped at the intersection to see the carefully trimmed monsters peering from within. It’s been the hard work and artistry of County grounds maintenance crews since at least the 1970s.
Now come budget cutbacks and the first to go are the friendly Dinobeasts shaped from wild bushes.
Also, the classy and classic old hospital at the corner, an architectural relic with echoes of Deco and Spanish-style, is undergoing a rude makeover. It will not go well.
Already we see 2x4s inserted inside those graceful arches, doing violence to history, beauty and a citizenry that deserves better. Take a look before county meatheads decide to bulldoze the building just for the fun of it.
‘Our Democracy’
Our friends on the left have concocted something new to fret over, and it’s about the fragile state of “Our Democracy” which they suggest is gravely imperiled by the Big Orange Tyrant.
Their feigned anxieties over abuse of the democratic process ignore which party is currently plotting a backroom coup against Joe Biden. They may also recall Dems working furiously to keep Trump off state ballots in the upcoming election, and to prevent him walking the streets a free man.
“Save Our Democracy” is the slogan covering the ruse.
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