The weathermen called for cold weather today with a possibility of snow. On the radio (and certainly on the TV too?), they talked and talked about dropping temperatures and projected lows and the possibility of 4 inches of snow accumulation.
The paper said it, too. In big block letters across the top of the metro section, this morning’s headlines proclaimed the possibility of snow.
Trudy looked up at me as I rolled my eyes.
She knows how I feel about this fetish Central Texas weathermen seem to have with inclement weather — proclaiming in excited tones coming fronts, warning people of the dangers … all in the interest, Trudy knows I feel, of getting eyeballs to drive advertising revenue. But when it snows in Dallas, it usually doesn’t snow in Central Texas, and more often than not, their proclamations pass without a snowflake falling.
So I’m in there this morning at the keyboard, reading email, modifying a program, listening to the garbage truck work its way toward our house, when Trudy shouts from the kitchen.
“It’s snowing! It’s snowing! Come quick, it’s snowing.”
And sure enough, there it is just outside our patio door: big wet flakes falling out of the sky, covering the garden beds and the compost pile. There it is, just like they said: our wintery mix, all 0.25 inches of it.