Yeah, sure, The 12 Disasters of Christmas is a lousy SyFy movie (which I, um, have seen, of course) dealing with a star appearing and bringing on unprecedented disasters. Or something. It didn't make a lick of sense.
Kinda like the weather patterns during the last week.
Ye gads, winter storm Goliath brought down a mess during the week of Christmas. While everyone's traveling, natch. In Kansas City, ice laid down a nice platform for its friend, snow, to follow. My daughter was in Iowa picking up her newest car (the third in her very short driving tenure if you're keeping track; here's hoping she doesn't blow this one up). One day, Iowa temperatures reached a high of 4 degrees! FOUR DEGREES! And the day my daughter was set to drive back in a Brand New Car, a blizzard hit.
Meanwhile, my wife and I were in Oklahoma visiting her family. Christmas Day was a balmy near 70 degrees! Hawaiian shirt weather. Then some cosmic jokester decided to pull the rug out from under us. The next day, the temperature plummeted down into the 30's. It poured three straight days and nights, never stopping. Noah type weather. My in-law's back acreage turned into a swamp. Winds were crazy, impossible to battle. At one point, we couldn't get our car doors open. Once we did, items flew out in a crazy Dorothy from Oz tornadic swirl. For the first time, I actually heard the wind howl! Not in a horror book either! A flag post rattled, sounding like a flock of geese heading South. All night long, the winds hammered at the windows, shaking the house, wanting to come in from the cold. Grocery carts were blown into busy streets causing mass chaos. Then ice and snow swept in as the temperatures kept dropping.
And the poor people residing in the Southwest? They have no idea what snow is.
"What are these strange white flecks in the air, Ma?"
"Hope it ain't nuclear fall-out, Pa."
Yep. The 12 Disasters of Christmas. At our doorstep. We don't need a cheezy SyFy flick to tell us the end-times are near!
On that cheery note, there's one thing that remains constant on Christmas. Two things, really. The first is family. They're always there, always open and loving. The second thing, of course, is a special tradition at my in-law's house. Without fail, every year on Christmas, the power goes out. (Some traditions are better left to the past and fond memories, I think). One year, a squirrel sat on a power line and pulled everything down. Another year, the storm of the century knocked everything out. This year the winds were the culprit. A Christmas miracle! Every year!
Here's hoping the weather straightens itself out in the new year (I'm giving you a stern look, Weather!).
Speaking of screwy things, my new comedy mystery, Bad Day in a Banana Hammock, is now out. Read it now, yell at me later.