Stormy weather

Based on the stories I write here, some of you may be under the impression that Georgia is a conservative and relatively predictable place. People always say hello and wish you a great day, lots of time is spent drinking tea on the porch, everyone goes to church on Sundays and eats barbecue chicken, and the cotton always blooms in the fall. And it is true – Georgia is a very mellow, easy-going state, where very little happens that is truly exciting or innovative. However, the one exception to this conclusion has got to be the weather.

Georgia weather is probably the most unpredictable, surprising, and thus potentially annoying facets of life down here. Of course, winters in Maine are much harsher, and the wildfires in California aren’t exactly a laughing matter either, but both can somewhat be predicted. When you live in Maine, you know it will be cold, freezing cold, from October to April. And in California, people know when the Santa Ana winds are coming, and thus know when the wildfires will start up again. Even I, who live thousands of miles away from both states, can pretty much predict both at this point. And although people living in Holland complain about their unpredictable summers, and winters, I think “unpredictable” is really not the right term to use over there. See, the Netherlands has a temperate climate, which means it will have wet and moderately warm summers, and wet and moderately cold winters. The problem with the Dutch is that they think that Holland should have warm summer sand snowy winters, and then when that doesn’t happen, they are absolutely flabbergasted. And, amazingly enough, this feeling of surprise and unfairness (“why can’t we ever have a decent summer/winter?!”) returns every year.

If you want to talk about surprising weather, you obviously need to come spend some time in Georgia. Admittedly, summers in Georgia are fairly boring. They always start late April, end Early October, and are hot and humid. But when I say Georgia weather is unpredictable, I’m talking about those six months between summers. For there is no telling what they will bring.

Take last week for instance. Over the weekend, our part of Georgia was still in the firm grip of what newscasters called a “deep freeze”. Now I’m not sure if night time temperatures of around 25F (-4C) qualify as a deep freeze, but it sure was cold. Our heater worked over time, husband-dear had to scrape car windows every single morning, and it was just parka-gloves-hat cold. Then out of blue, on Sunday and Monday, the weather turned positively subtropical. Temperatures soared into the low 70s (approx 22C), and we found ourselves walking the dog in jeans and t-shirts. Then on Tuesday, whoever is in charge of local weather, decided that was enough, and sunk middle Georgia into a storm almost as intense as hurricane Ike, which passed over our region a few months ago. Tornado watches and warnings were in effect all over the state, lakes and rivers flooded, and driving on the interstate meant navigating at least four inches of water with a visibility of no more than thirty feet. Being Dutch, I’m used to rain, obviously. But when it rains in Georgia, it pours. There’s no such thing as drizzle in the southeast, and so within hours, windows start to condensate on the inside, gutters start to overflow, and driving becomes a real hazard. Then this morning, after two days of a continuous downpour, one so bad that I had started to crack my usual “let’s go and build an ark” jokes, the rain was gone. Instead we saw clear blue skies, a bright sun, and serious wind gusts. Although everything is better than rain, I now had to struggle to keep my car on the road from time to time, and I’m not sure our wreaths will still be on our windows when I come home tonight. And guess what? Tonight they’ve predicted another “deep freeze”, while next week it is going to be in the 70s. You have got to love Georgia winters.