Okay, so. Last week at this time, I was wearing flip-flops. It was at least 75 degrees, WTF CENTRAL GEORGIA, and just a little bit sticky; the weather reminded me of Christmases of my childhood when my parents (after my father and his best friend had gotten drunk and climbed up onto the roofs of their respective houses (in the face, we heard many years later, of vehement opposition/threats of divorce from their respective wives) and stomped around ho-ho-hoing, pretending to be [santa + eight tiny reindeer], waking us kids up and freaking us out and rendering us incapable of sleep for the rest of the night) would turn the air conditioner down as low as it would go, so that on Christmas morning we'd have that goddamned fire or bust, and then we'd go outside to play with our new bicycles and pink-wheeled white rollerskates and whatnot wearing shorts and t-shirts, because it was the Gulf Coast, baby, and as likely as not to be pretty fucking balmy on Christmas Day. The weather here, it was like that, is what I'm saying, which is highly unusual for these parts, where as a rule it's chilly and dry and ridiculously pleasant in November.
And the weather held steady through the start of the weekend, and then the temperatures plummeted forty degrees over the course of one wildly windy afternoon, wherein I lost almost all my leaves, or anyway, my trees, of which there are many, lost their leaves. It was like that Terry Gilliam animation, you know the one I'm talking about. And it was frigidly, unseasonally cold for a couple of days.
And THEN yesterday the temperature -- what's the opposite of plummeted? -- shot up like a round fired in the French Quarter by some redneck on New Year's Eve, a round that's going to fall again at the same speeds at which it ascended (that's just physics) and is fated to hit you square in the top of the head, likely killing you instantly, but at least if it doesn't kill you, you'll be too drunk to find it anything but hilariously funny. And it was seventy-five degrees again today.
And NOW. NOW it is raining like crazy (which don't get me wrong, we're grateful for the rain) and there are tornado warnings for my entire region, and guess what? The temperature's gonna drop again, and by this time tomorrow, we'll be headed straight down into the twenties, and we may or may not stop there for a while. I won't count on it, though. No one really knows what the hell's going on any more.
I mean to say: Central Georgia, seriously, WTF? My grass is confused! Clover is growing, and shriveling, and growing again; it looks like my yard is breathing. The trees, which lost their leaves en masse like three days ago, are budding again. The incredibly beautiful wild-growing twenty-foot-tall camellia trees lining my neighbor's side of the driveway are biding their time in a decidedly gingerly and possibly disapproving fashion. It seems I'm gonna be forced to do that, too, and mostly I'm cool with that, but still, a little part of me is with the clover, here. YOU DO YOUR JOB, NOVEMBER, AND I'LL DO MINE, OKAY.
And the weather held steady through the start of the weekend, and then the temperatures plummeted forty degrees over the course of one wildly windy afternoon, wherein I lost almost all my leaves, or anyway, my trees, of which there are many, lost their leaves. It was like that Terry Gilliam animation, you know the one I'm talking about. And it was frigidly, unseasonally cold for a couple of days.
And THEN yesterday the temperature -- what's the opposite of plummeted? -- shot up like a round fired in the French Quarter by some redneck on New Year's Eve, a round that's going to fall again at the same speeds at which it ascended (that's just physics) and is fated to hit you square in the top of the head, likely killing you instantly, but at least if it doesn't kill you, you'll be too drunk to find it anything but hilariously funny. And it was seventy-five degrees again today.
And NOW. NOW it is raining like crazy (which don't get me wrong, we're grateful for the rain) and there are tornado warnings for my entire region, and guess what? The temperature's gonna drop again, and by this time tomorrow, we'll be headed straight down into the twenties, and we may or may not stop there for a while. I won't count on it, though. No one really knows what the hell's going on any more.
I mean to say: Central Georgia, seriously, WTF? My grass is confused! Clover is growing, and shriveling, and growing again; it looks like my yard is breathing. The trees, which lost their leaves en masse like three days ago, are budding again. The incredibly beautiful wild-growing twenty-foot-tall camellia trees lining my neighbor's side of the driveway are biding their time in a decidedly gingerly and possibly disapproving fashion. It seems I'm gonna be forced to do that, too, and mostly I'm cool with that, but still, a little part of me is with the clover, here. YOU DO YOUR JOB, NOVEMBER, AND I'LL DO MINE, OKAY.
no subject
Date: 2010-12-01 06:42 am (UTC)At least it's not this extreme?