Posts Tagged ‘atmospheric river’

Party time

March 15, 2023

Her Majesty recovers from the stress of entertaining.

With one birthday down and one to go, things are back to what passes for business as usual around El Rancho Pendejo.

As you can see, Miss Mia Sopaipilla is greatly relieved. She is a creature of habit and not a fan of company, especially when said company evicts her from her bedroom.

And yes, of course Miss Mia Sopaipilla has her own bedroom. What are we, Nazis?

Meanwhile, our friendly local roof wizards have waved their wands overhead, just in time for what looks like a bit of spillover from the atmospheric river giving California such a brutal hosing.

Jiminy Chris’mus, South Lake Tahoe is starting to look like the ice planet Hoth, only with leaking roofs, exploding propane tanks, and rental cars stuffed into snowbanks, abandoned by fleeing tourists.

The Northeast is no better. Hijo, madre. And in between? Don’t ask.

Here, the worst we can expect is a bit of drizzle, maybe a soupçon of snow. And of course, the usual seasonal allergies as everything from azaleas to zinnias checks the long-term forecast and decides to scatter pollen far and wide, and all at once, too.

Ahhhhhh-choo! ’Scuse me.

Son of a beach

January 15, 2023

“We are not amused.”

Miss Mia Sopaipilla is doing her Queen Victoria impression again, so you know it’s not going to be sunny and fiddy-sumpin’ today in The Duck! City.

Happily, it was sunny and fiddy-sumpin’ the past couple of days, so I was able to get out and about on a two-wheeler, in this case the Co-Motion Divide Rohloff.

My man Chris Coursey, a beach bum and journo who rose from his humble origins to become Santa Rosa’s mayor and then a Sonoma County supervisor, probably longs for the days when he had to drive to the California coast to see a few gajillion tons of water in motion.

Friday and Saturday marked my first off-road rides of 2023, and they were a nice change from running, which I will probably return to today, if I can pull myself together in time to beat the rain to the punch.

Yes, the wizards are predicting rain, and even a small chance of snow, so I guess we’re getting a little spillover from the atmospheric rivers that have been drenching the West Coast.

I’ve never had to contend with weather like that, and I hope to keep that lucky streak unbroken. It makes the occasional four-foot Colorado snowstorm look like a day at the beach with a cold sixer and a hot girl.

Whip out that big 0.10 inch

December 30, 2022

More of a dribble than a deluge.

Not exactly your atmospheric river or bomb cyclone, is it?

Water managers along the Colorado will not be tossing their Stetsons skyward and shouting “Huzzah!” over this casual squeeze from God’s bar towel.

Shuckens, it weren’t even cold. Anticipating a brisk north wind that never eventuated Herself and I were massively overdressed for yesterday’s run.

But we did meet a delightful Newfoundland puppy, about 8 months old and already the size of a black bear. So we got that going for us, which is nice.

Speaking of dogs and Canada, “Letterkenny” is back for its 11th season on Hulu and Apple TV. And if yous haven’t ever watched it, yous owe it to yourself. It’s preposterous, mildly perverse, and occasionally hysterical, and if yous need subtitles, well, clearly yous have never lived in Ontario like Your Humble Narrator, eh.

And if yous wonder where the headline came from, well …

High and (mostly) dry

December 28, 2022

’Tis a fine soft day at El Rancho Pendejo.

Tlaloc is having a wee this morning, and glad we are to see it. It’s been so dry even the cacti have the asthma.

If we’re really lucky this light rain will become snow and maybe stick around a while, soak in a bit. I can see a dusting up there along the ridgeline.

But the odds of any serious accumulation seem poor, on a par with Southwest Airlines returning your luggage (or you, for that matter) before the Fourth of July.

Still, it seems I was wise to get the ol’ bikey ridey in yesterday. Any outdoor exercise today is likely to involve running shoes and rain gear.

It feels weird to be sitting here, mostly high and dry, as an atmospheric river water-cannons the West Coast and the East Coast tunnels out from under a bomb cyclone.

One of the upsides of living in the high desert, I suppose. The downside being that in a couple years we’ll need “Dune”-style stillsuits for the long, hot hike to the farmers’ market.