Hurricane Season

Florida may be a warm haven in winter when snow birds leave the cold of the north for its sandy shores, but summer is an entirely different scene. I’ve been in Florida in summer, when it was so hot you could see the heat waves coming off the asphalt. I’ve also been in Florida during a summer storm.

We were driving and the rain came down so heavy the windshield wipers couldn’t clear it and the night sky gave us a frightening fireworks display of thunder and lightening. This was just a storm, scary with the wind and rain; imagine what it must be like during a hurricane?

Hurricane season in the Atlantic Ocean runs June 1st to November 30^th.

Last Friday the first hurricane of the season hit North Carolina causing power outages and storm and flooding damage. It hit landfall at Category 2 strength. The hurricane, named Arthur, was downgraded to a post tropical storm on Saturday when it hit the Maritimes, again bringing loss of power and storm damage.

I wondered about the naming of hurricanes, was curious when they didn’t seem to be in real alphabet order. My sister, who lives in Florida, gave me an explanation. Not all storms reach, or maintain, hurricane status. According to the World Meteorological Organization a tropical storm is named if its circulation pattern and wind speeds reach 39 miles/hour. A tropical storm becomes a hurricane if the speeds reach 74 miles/hour.

There are six lists of names that are rotated so each name comes up every six years. The exception to this rule is if a storm is particularly damaging. For legal and historic reasons the name is not repeated. An example of this was in 2005. The name Katrina was retired after the devastation Hurricane Katrina’s impact had on New Orleans.

That summer in Florida began my fascination with Doppler’s, as used in weather reporting. I love to see the storms moving across the map, their colours designating, for summer, rain and thunderstorms, for winter, ice and snow. I find it amazing, the weather where I live might be clear, as the storms, winter or summer, move by us to the north or south. Or the pretty colours on the map are going to go right over us and I need to prepare.

I pay attention to the hurricanes, as I have family living on the coast of Florida. I found a site last year, the National Hurricane Centre, and found it quite interesting. They have Doppler’s showing the hurricane’s projected path, but also show the impact in wind and expected rainfall. At one time there was more than one storm brewing and it was interesting to track them with a view of the entire ocean. I’ve included the link in case you were interested.

http://www.nhc.noaa.gov/?atlc

So, the names for 2014 are Arthur, Bertha, Cristobel, Dolly and so on. If we next hear of Hurricane Cristobel you’ll know Bertha just couldn’t get up to speed. Let’s hope we don’t make a run of the alphabet this year. Winter was hard enough on the eastern seaboard and everyone could do with a break this summer.

Happy 4th of July

My American roots show on a day like today. I like that the holidays for my birth country and my home country are so close together that I can almost celebrate them as one.

So, to all my family and friends in the U.S., I wish you a Happy 4th of July this holiday weekend. Stay safe everyone.

Here's a great handcrafted wreath to celebrate.

Follow the Leader

I played an interesting game of follow the leader tonight. And guess what? I was the leader.

My granddaughter was to play soccer and for this game they were playing at a little used field that was more often used for baseball. There is a circular driveway leading in from the street, but no real parking area. I could see the soccer nets placed in what I assumed was the outfield, one sitting along the far reaches of the first base line and the other near the edge of the park, in centre field.

I arrived early, wanting to park where I might be able to watch the game from my car. So, I drove across the grass and parked behind the end of the fence that ran parallel to the first base line. From this vantage point I could see the whole field.

Normally, the parents line themselves along the one side of the soccer field, each team choosing an end, a sort of ‘first come, first serve’ kind of deal.

I had my cup of tea and had come early to get this prime parking spot. Shortly after I arrived a car pulled up and parked to my right. Then another car…one space over to my left. A few more cars and suddenly I’m in a line of cars, all neatly parked, sort of, as if the grass were marked with designated white lines.

Look at me, I’m a trend setter.

I’m waiting for my team to arrive. The players in the surrounding cars are wearing red jerseys and from the bits of conversation I can hear, are the visiting team from out of town. A local player wearing blue shows up, but it’s a case of wrong time, wrong place, and he leaves.

Then some yellow jerseys arrive, but not the one belonging to me. Still, I wait. This is where my daughter told me to be. I didn’t call ahead, wasn’t sure I’d make it, but, this is where she said they played.

It’s now 6 P.M.; obviously I got the time wrong. More cars arrive. I recognize one of the arriving yellow team members, so I must be in the right place after all.

My granddaughter is just fashionably late, like her mother. I guess the game is at 6:30, not six. Seven players, usually there’s ten. Do I smell a forfeit in the making?

Finally, there’s my girl, number eleven in a bright yellow jersey. And there’s the rest of my family. Within minutes my car is full of kids all chattering at once, all complaining that they’re starving. Oops, I didn’t bring treats this time. I guess I lost grandma points there, so the promise of ice cream after the game will have to do.

Once the game started I was deserted as the kids found others to play with, and they had a bat and ball. I got to watch a double header, baseball to my left and soccer to the right.

My granddaughter scored a beaut of a goal, and her team won 4-1.

It was ice cream for everybody. I had pralines and cream, a favourite of mine, so it was a good night for us all.

Canada Day Fireworks

I was lying in bed, reading, when the Canada Day fire works began just after 10 P.M. last night.

Pop, pop…pop, pop, pop…bang, bang…bang…BANG.

There must be something very wrong with me, because when I heard that one really big bang, all I could think about was murder.

The sound was similar to that of a gun shot, or so I assume…I do watch television.

Then I lost interest in the book I was reading, thinking who could be murdered in the park, on the holiday, during the fire works display?

I’ll have to think on this story for awhile. I haven’t solved the murder of the Mean Girls in the cornfield. That’s the murder mystery I’m currently working on.

Inspiration for that one began with a phrase from my son…”Where the Forest Meets the Corn”.

You just never know where inspiration will come from. If it takes me the summer to finish the ‘killed in the corn field’ story, I may save the holiday weekend story for the fall. There’s NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) in November.

I can change the fireworks from Canada Day to Labour Day. That would work. Fall is as good a time as any to commit a murder.

Visiting Wildlife

I was outside talking to my neighbour this morning when a Mallard duck walked around the corner of the building, venturing close, but not quite joining our group. I scurried inside for some bread, but had to grab a slice out of the freezer. I broke it up into small pieces and figured he didn’t mind it was frozen, since he seemed to swallow it whole.

Apparently the ducks built a nest a short ways away, and Poppa is now out and about, investigating the neighbourhood. It didn’t take long for the sea gulls to arrive, which really shocked me. I know I’m close to the lake, but I had never seen the greedy gulls here before. How is it that they can spot a crust of bread so easily from that height, and in flight? You would think they had enough to keep them busy at the chip truck down on the waterfront.

We have squirrels galore, scampering across the lawn, up and down the trees. There’s also a lone chipmunk, that’s assuming I see the same one speeding by my door, that must live near by. I think it’s interesting how the chipmunk clings to the building, races through the garden and under the bin, only going out in the open to race across to the other building. I suppose that is one of those adaptive behaviours, because chipmunks are smaller and easier prey they protect themselves by hiding close to structures. I think they’re cute, but then I was raised on Chip ‘n Dale.

Saw a fox at the other place, and at the other end of town they’re a regular sighting near my friend’s house. She also has ducks, chipmunks and squirrels. And bluejays. But she feeds them peanuts on her deck, so it’s little wonder.

Out in the country there was a bear sighting. Not something I’d want to come across in my back yard.

My garden is coming together, slower than I would have liked, but getting there. I have my chair painted and sitting in the garden, kind of silly looking I guess, but it will look nice one I get the basket of flowers with trailing ivy to place on it.

Mulch is the next step, I don’t want to have to weed and the heat is bringing them out like mad.

Remember the tree felling? Well I got a new tree, not as close to the house but out in the yard. I like that idea of when one tree is lost, another tree is planted to replace it.