I'm new to weather. Well, not new, exactly - I'm more like, reuinted with weather. I just finished my time in Phoenix - hard time, because no time in Phoenix is easy - with a wonderful move to Colorado.
Since getting here in July, I've been stalking the Weather Channel. I made my husband install the weather widget on my desktop, so I can, if I wish (and God, you have no idea how I wish), get minute-by-minute weather updates. It's like crack to me.
I was so psyched when a snow forecast popped up on Monday for last night, today, tonight, tomorrow, and Sunday. I thought, "Surely, this won't last. You've teased me with snow before, Widget, and always have taken it back within a day or so."
But no! The little cloud with the teensy snowflakes winked up at me from the corner of my monitor, daring me to believe that there might really be 4-8 inches on the ground for Bacon and me to play in come Saturday morning, 4-8 glorious inches of delicious white powder to wash away the memory of 85-degree Christmases celebrated with the air-conditioning on to keep the tree from browning (or spontaneously combusting).
Would you like to know what's on the ground right now? A dusting. No snow last night; no snow today; a measly dusting tonight. Not even enough to close schools in Nogales.
Le sigh. Perhaps tomorrow the sky will vomit snow upon us: I do, after all, have plans. And they involve driving.