Steelhammer: Muggy weather pattern leaves W.Va. dreaming of drier, cooler days
Muggy weather pattern leaves W.Va. dreaming of drier, cooler days
@rag:Irish writer Oscar Wilde is credited with describing conversation about the weather as being "the last refuge of the unimaginative."
I'll take his word for it, since Wilde, with his talent for words and possession of no fewer than three middle names, was obviously descended from imaginative stock.
But with the Kanawha Valley's climate imitating the various cycles of a $7 car wash for the past couple of weeks, and no end in sight, I feel compelled to risk entering Wilde's last refuge.
I would trade the current steam-heat and shower cycle for a noisy but dry cicada brood emergence in a heartbeat. A drought would be welcome -- a cold snap divine.
I'm tired of the Doppler radar map showing more swirling red and green than a stadium full of Italian flags at a World Cup qualifying match. I long for the day when television ads for personal injury lawyers will once again outnumber flash flood watches and severe weather warnings.
At bedtime, I could do without stumbling through a maze of cowardly dogs arrayed around the compound's master sleep platform, where they nervously wait out the nightly thunderstorms under the false impression that the boss can repel lightning.
It would be nice to be able to make it through the day without having my shirt soaked through at least once by rain, sweat, or a combination thereof, or not to be able to open the front door and reward myself with a refreshing breath of water.
If the current weather pattern doesn't change, and if my athlete's foot issue doesn't spread to my hands in this climate, I'm thinking about taking up mildew ranching.
I'd like to see the stars again.
I worry about the fireflies shorting out.
I'm ready for this moisture-laden weather pattern to dissipate and eventually become only a mildly unpleasant memory.
Last year at about this time, a widespread, straight-line windstorm swept through West Virginia, downing trees and outbuildings and leaving nearly a half-million homes and businesses without power.
The outdoor sauna we're living in now is nowhere that severe, but it's still a pain in the neck that's bound to endure as another bad weather memory.
But first it needs a catchy name. I vote we call it the drench-o of 2013.