It’s January, a good month in many ways, but one that makes me (and lots of folks around here) watchful. Maybe, even a bit paranoid. Not because we’re still feeling the effects from the excesses of December (though some of us are) and not due to the tax returns looming in our future. We’re worried because the weather is unpredictable in January and it can be extreme. And our history with schizoid temperatures around here makes amateur meteorologists (and curmudgeons) out of many of us.
Dressing for the weather
Let me give you an example. Monday, the temp outdoors went into the 60’s or higher. How much higher, I’m not really sure. Because I was inside, sweltering in a chin-to-knees sweater I’d worn because, hello, it’s January. Then the temp dropped like a rock, indoors and out, and I spent Thursday and Friday curled up in layers of clothing and huddled around reheated cups of coffee. No wonder everyone seems to have a case of the sniffles! January temps rise and drop like a roller coaster.
And that’s a problem when you live with Southern Architecture. Officially, this is a humid, subtropical region and our houses are built for that. I’m talking heat pumps, lots of windows, and outdoor living. This makes sense ten months of the year. But this place ain’t the tropics in January! And our buildings, so climate controlled in July, can feel downright chilly at this end of the year. Even cold, when we get some (gasp!) Snow.
…then there’s that old devil, Snow
Seriously, if you want to scare a group of Southern women, tell them there’s snow in the forecast, but do it at a distance of at least five feet, because those ladies are going to hit DEFCON 1. And then they will run you over getting out the door. See, S-N-O-W is code for Apocalypse down here, and those women are going to save their families. Because the white stuff hits this place like a bomb.
Schools shut down before the first flakes can fall, so kids need to be taken back home. Few people here have winter driving skills so the highways get turned into parking lots of fender-benders. And nobody has enough supplies on hand, so a blizzard warning means a run on the stores. And all that happens before it snows. Once that starts, this place is as helpless as a turtle on its back. And everyone who lives here, knows it.
So that’s why we’re all obsessed with James Spann and watching cold fronts like they were first downs. Because it’s January in Alabama. And anything can happen.