When I moved to Colorado, I really did not know what to expect in terms of meteorology. Sure, I had seen it be 60 degrees on New Years Day, and seen all the commericals about skiing. But I was not prepared for the local often used phrase "if you don't like the weather in Colorado, wait 15 minutes."
Take for instance, on Sunday it was a beeutiful day, not a cloud in the sky, and pushing 80 degrees. Today, just three days later, it is 36 degrees and outside precipitation is falling in the mixture of rain, snow and groppel (also called soft hail or snow pellets - see you learned something today!). There is an elevation between Denver and Colorado Springs called the Palmer Divide. It struts west to east from the mountains, and the top elevation is somewhere around 7200 feet. Now you all (should) know that Denver is 5280 feet in elevation, hence the whole "Mile High" broo ha ha. But the difference the Palmer Divide makes is remarkable. It can be snowing like hell up here, and be sunny and warm in the Springs. Castle Rock, the home of your blogger, is right on top of this plateau, spike, high ground, whatever you want to call it, and our house is about 6900 feet. I know because I used the altimeter on my Sprint 4G Evo. Even though we don't have 4G service there. Shit, we hardly have any service at our house. Another subject, another day.
So weather is a big deal here. If you were just dropped down here from your extraterrestrial vehicle, you would find out in a heartbeat that snow is big for Colorado. Big, big, big. And I hate snow. Don't even then say "well, then why are you living there, butthead?" That answer is because of Steve, and you know it.
The weather people in the Denver television market (#16 says Nielsen, ahead of Cleveland, but behind Detroit) are just freaky about snow. Not for the city, but for the mountains. Everytime there is a cold front headed our way they don't talk about how driving is going to suck in the morning, they talk about how much wonderful, fluffy, magnificent snow there will be for all you skiiers and boarders. It doesn't help that there is a conspiracy between the ski resorts and the TV stations. They are always showing these pictures of people skiing in the high country on magnificently groomed slopes, kicking up a spray of white snow as they go right along with their skiing business. What they DO NOT show you is that some of these "resorts" are nothing more than a ski rental hut and a locker room. Read: Monarch Ski Area, which makes Snow Trails in Mansfield OHIO look like the Palace Hotel. Oh yeah, Keystone, Vail and Beavercreek are all fabulous because they are for fabulous people. But your run of the mill ski dudes cant always afford the price of fabulousness. At least I don't.
But then that may be attributed to the fact that I hate to ski. Hate it, hate it, hate it. Did you know that I broke BOTH ARMS skiing when I was in college? Yep, it was a painful time. Don't even ask me how I even got to wipe my butt. Kudos to the nursing students on the 5th floor of Siddall Hall for washing my hair.
But back to the precipitation here today. My yard loves it. Therefore I love it because I don't have to water the yard. My Homeowners Association, a/k/a The Nazis, will send me a letter about one damn weed, saying take care of it. A letter that the trim on my garage door needs painting (but in an approved color), and yes, when "your lawn looks stressed". Now the city only lets us water every third day, so how do you get enough water on it to look lush and golf course like? You tell Steve to turn on the sprinklers at something like 4 in the morning when no one is around to see it.
I wrote a few days ago about the HOA Nazi duking it out with the new neighbors about house color. This broad has a front yard that looks like the Sahara. No grass. The only thing green in her yard are the weeds. What devious little me wants to do is send her a letter on Founders Village look-alike stationary bitching about her yard and how she is not in compliance with the rules. LAFF RIOT!
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