Mr. Weatherman, and the Boy who cried Wolf.

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The weather men were all a tizzy last week. “Batten down the hatches.” They said. Well, as it turned out  the big blow never really showed up on Saturday. Though everyone stayed home to watch for it, and most all events were cancelled in these parts. Can’t help but liken it to the way it feels when you prep for disaster before a visit to oncology land. Getting all ready for the worse, that luckily doesn’t come – and yet at the same time there is a discomfort of sorts that what you expected didn’t come to pass. A certain cognitive dissonance.

Sort of like the strange disassociated thoughts I’ve had at funerals, or at the scene of an accident. Thoughts like  “Do you think Dad likes the funeral?” or, “Well at least they died quickly.”  And “Is that shade of blue something I will always associate with this?” “That is a pretty tree over there.” Thoughts related and unrelated tangled all together.

What happened is that the barometric pressure shifted and swirled. Tornadoes touched down freakishly at the beach on Friday. And no big Historic storm showed up on Saturday like they said it would. It feels like this might be borrowed time now, while we wait for the other shoe to drop. All the tension of waiting for disaster to finally fall.  Like maybe we missed an opportunity to trade God a big storm and a dash of flooding, for the looming huge earthquake and tsunami. Maybe just maybe if we could have a big enough storm, we can get a pass on a bigger disaster.

Then I start to have questions about how the weatherman could be so wrong? Just how much weather modification might be going on? Maybe this is a case where a well placed someone pulled some strings to save their beach house. A slight of hand, a counter move. Chem trails, and secret plots to control the weather.

Then I think of the weather scientist that issued the warning in the first place. Does mistakenly setting two states on high alert lose you your job? Is he like the Boy who cried wolf, and next time no one will listen? How much do all of scientists doing the many studies that talk outcomes for breast cancer have in common with the weatherman?

Regardless we travel to Portland tomorrow to visit Hai Shan Clinic. Which is much like traveling to Rivendell. I used up all my angst over the weekend weather worries, so it should be a good day.  I have a list of questions about my gallbladder situation. I will get a new swamp tea formula, and get acupuncture. Continuing on this long game of trying to side step future disasters, whether cancer, storm or earthquake.

 

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3 Comments Add yours

  1. Eileen says:

    Any prediction of snow in Georgia would result in a run on bread and milk at the store. Most times the bad weather missed us. Anyway, have a great day in Portland. Healing thoughts for your gallbladder. Love Eileen

    1. Iridacea says:

      That is funny, we have extra milk in the fridge. Thanks for the healing thoughts.
      Love – Iris
      P.S. I have been using the Pyrex set constantly- thanks for that too sister.

  2. YAPCaB says:

    Being a weatherman is the only job where you can consistently fail and still get raises and promotions.

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