The weatherman broke his promise to me, again. Last weekend he promised a gorgeous, sunny weekend with a high temperature near 70. We got a wet, cold, dreary weekend, instead. I don’t mind an occasional rainy weekend, but not in the midst of winter when I’ve been promised a rare springlike weekend. It was a bit depressing. To add to our misery, the entire week has been rainy and cold.
Yesterday the weatherman promised us a change of weather in the form of snow. I love snow! One of my favorite children’s books is The Snowy Day by Ezra Jack Keats. That was the day I was expecting. I love to watch the flakes fall from the sky and cover up the dead of winter. It is particularly beautiful when it is deep enough that all you see on the ground is a solid blanket of white. I enjoy being out in the snow, but I am reluctant to go outside because I don’t want footprints to mar the pristine surface.
So, I was excited by yesterday’s forecast of snow. As I drove to work Wednesday, the weather reports said to expect flurries. Later in the day the forecast was changed to measurable amounts of snow, which increased from 2-4 inches, to 5 inches, to 8 inches with blizzard conditions expected by 5 pm. My heart soared with each new weather bulletin. Even if the weatherman was wrong about the snow fall totals, we should be in for a beautiful snowy day. If the weatherman was correct, not only would I likely miss work on Friday, but their was a distinct possibility of being sent home early on Thursday.
The Thursday morning forecast called for the first flakes to appear around noon, with snow continuing until midnight or so. Total snow fall predictions had been downgraded to 4-6 inches. Throughout the day, the snow’s impending arrival was pushed back and the predicted total were decreased. Yet I was still hopeful of getting a ‘decent’ snow. As I drove home, I saw a couple of snowflakes mixed with the rain that had fallen all day. It is now almost 11:00. No snow has materialized. No sleet. No frozen rain. The temperature has not plummeted to several degrees below freezing.
Alas, I must face the fact that the weatherman has broken another promise. There will be no day off tomorrow. It is highly unlikely that there will even be a delayed opening. I, along with thousands of local school children and a few other adults, am feeling disillusioned. I have friends who don’t like the snow and who are quite pleased that the weather man broke another promise.
How can the weatherman be so very wrong as to predict 8 inches of snow, when what we got was a sixth consecutive day of rain? Why do I always believe the weatherman when he promises snow? Why do I let my hopes soars, when there is such a high probability that this prediction is just another broken promise? I don’t know. Perhaps it would benefit me to become a skeptic–to doubt all the weatherman’s snow forecast, so that I am pleasantly surprised when the snow actually does come.
The forecast for tomorrow is for the sun to reappear. After the rain of the last six days, the sun would be a most welcome sight. Just the thought of seeing the sun in the morning is making me feel better, almost cheerful. Am I setting myself up for another weather disappointment?