Winter Storm Goliath Hits Tulia, Texas

So Michele, Ben, and I drove over to Altus, Oklahoma on Thursday, the 24th, so glad to see my folks, my sisters and their families. We had a good time with them. But by Saturday, the morning after Christmas, it was time for us to get home. A winter storm--"Goliath" they called it--was blowing in from the west. We needed to get home to the Texas panhandle before it started snowing.

The winds of West Texas were howling long before we made it to Tulia. But it didn't start snowing until sometime in the wee hours of Sunday morning. We got more snow Sunday night. I took these photos on Monday afternoon, the 28th.

South Bowie Avenue, Tule Creek in the distance

Home Sweet Home

A perfect snow drift along my north fence line 

Our Trip to Carlsbad

It's been such a busy week! Larkin and Ory were married in Wellington on Saturday. We spent the night in Altus at the wonderful (well, adequate) Days Inn, and came back to Tulia on Sunday. 

Then, on Monday, it was time for Michele, Abigail, and I to begin our next adventure, one that turned out a little longer than we had planned. It was a nice drive from Tulia down to Carlsbad, New Mexico. We got up Tuesday morning ready for our day at Carlsbad Caverns.

By late afternoon, we were tired and had seen just about all we could. Walking out of the visitor center, we discovered that everything was coated in a sheet of ice. After we scraped off our cars, we drove slowly down the mountain out to the highway. Michele was planning to drive south and spend a day or two with her sister and her family in El Paso. Abigail and I turned north, planning to make it back to Tulia that night.

Before we reached Carlsbad, just a few miles north of the Caverns, Michele called and said, "Get a room in Carlsbad." We knew the weather wasn't nice, but didn't understand. On her way south, she had seen more than one overturned car. She had even stopped to help a couple who had rolled over in their pickup. They stayed warm and waited for the emergency vehicles in her car.

Naturally, Michele was afraid and had no intention of going to El Paso, Tulia, or anywhere far. She was convinced that neither car should go beyond Carlsbad that night. The roads were just too treacherous. So Abigail and I stopped and got a room in Carlsbad, and Michele eventually met us there.

After a good meal at the motel restaurant, we spent our second night in Carlsbad. This morning, Wednesday, December 31st, we woke up to a couple inches of snow. But there was daylight, and crews had made some progress in clearing the roads. It was a long, slow trip home. But we made it safely. Best of all, we had our unforgettable day at the Caverns.

Blizzard of '13: Big-time Snow in the TX Panhandle

Top photo was taken at 2 p.m. on Sunday, Feb. 24th. It was about 68 degrees with a light wind. The camera is facing north. As you can tell from the sun-drenched yard, the view to the south was cloudless. I could hardly believe that a blizzard warning would go into effect at 6 p.m.

By 10 p.m. it had hardly snowed at all. But it had gotten very cold. In just a few hours, the temperature dropped by about 40 degrees. The bottom photo was taken this afternoon, Monday, about 24 hours later. The temperature stood at about 30.

There were some pretty high drifts near homes and fences. Much of Amarillo and Canyon was shut down today (public schools, colleges, various businesses, and the mall). I suspect there will be several closings and cancellations for tomorrow as well. This snow was wet and heavy.

They just announced on the evening news that the official measurement is at least a foot of snow, and more like 19 inches in some places. Area schools will be closed tomorrow as well as today.

Ice and Snow on the High Plains

I thought this was a good one:

A little girl walks into a pet shop and asks in the sweetest little lisp, "Excuthe me, mithter, do you have any wittle wabbits?"

The shopkeeper bends way down, puts his hands on his knees so he's on her level, and asks, "Do you want a wittle white wabbit, or a wittle bwack wabbit? Or maybe that cute wittle bwown wabbit over there."

She puts her hands on her knees, leans forward and says in a quiet little voice, "I weally don't fink my pyfon cares."
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Amarillo and the surrounding area got another 5 inches of wet, heavy snow last night. For those keeping score at home, that's nearly a foot and a half of snow since last Thursday. Neither Amarillo nor the Canyon school district issued a delay this morning. An hour delay would have been the right thing to do. Alas, I was not consulted.

The one truly good thing about all this is the moisture. It does my heart good to imagine the snow and ice melting and seeping into the soil here on the high plains.
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My folks tell me that, following last week's incredible ice storm, electrical power was restored to a few parts of Altus, Oklahoma yesterday. But that didn't include their house. The mayor of the city has said that it might be as late as Sunday, February 14th--another week and a half--before all residents of Altus have electricity again.

Inglourious Winter Weather

I'm currently part of a seminar on the Holocaust. So should I rent Inglourious Basterds? Never thought I'd be doing homework with Quentin Tarantino. . . .

Last Thursday's major snow storm continues to be a bit of a problem here in West Texas. As usual, we can use the moisture. But road crews in this part of the country aren't equipped for that much snow. Amarillo received anywhere from about 8 inches to a foot.

Last Saturday, one of my step-daughters had a gymnastics meet in Lubbock. We started out early, thinking that the roads were still pretty bad. We were right. Even the interstate was mostly covered with ice. By the time we made it to our destination, we had been in the car for over three hours and had seen dozens of cars and trucks stuck in the median and ditches. One 18-wheeler was on its side. Michele and I talked about turning around and going home. But we made it to Lubbock and back, safe and sound.

Since then, it hasn't gotten much better here in Amarillo. Side streets, like the one I live on, haven't been plowed, and now look like they could be used for the Olympic mogul competition. On major thoroughfares, snow has been piled up in the middle of the street, as opposed to the side. In some places, the piles are so high, when taking a left turn, you just have to close your eyes, say a prayer, and go for it.

I know, it could be a lot worse. My hometown of Altus, Oklahoma is without electricity. Has been since last Thursday. Word has it that power won't be restored until late this week. But the folks are fine.

Today the sun is shining and it's supposed to reach 47 degrees in West Texas. Let the melting begin! And hurry! I might try to make it to the funeral for the late Global Warming.

Photo from Tuesday, March 8. See previous post.

The Winter that Wouldn't Go Away

Without looking outside, you can always tell when Spring has sprung in Connecticut. The radio stations play "Here Comes the Sun" about once every hour. I smile, sing along, and hardly ever get tired of it.

But I haven't heard that song this year. Not once. "Little darlin', it's been a long, cold, lonely winter." Indeed. And it's not over yet. From today's "Hartford Courant":

Rain morphed into a windy snowstorm Tuesday that nearly paralyzed the evening commute on the state's highways.

Cars spun off roads, tractor-trailers jackknifed and school buses were stranded. Plows could only crawl.

"Basically, Hartford County is not moving. I kid you not," Mike Alan, a traffic reporter for WTIC-AM radio, 1080, said on the air at about 5:10 p.m.

But Hartford County was hardly alone.

"Crazy, crazy, crazy" is how a state police spokesman, Sgt. J. Paul Vance, described the state's highways. Police received about 200 calls reporting accidents between noon and 4:45 p.m., he said. Near whiteout conditions contributed to 130 accidents in just the first three hours of the storm.

A few reactions to my present affect:

From now on, I'll listen more closely to the groundhog report. No, not every guy named "Phil" has something profound to say. But the furry one in Pennsylvania? He's onto something.

"If you don't like the weather, just wait a minute or two." When he coined the expression that goes like that, Twain was living in Hartford. Although it applies to most other places I've been, the phrase belongs to New England first.

There's a lot that I love about Connecticut. You're halfway between New York and Boston; but in addition to the cities, you've got farms and suburbs, beaches and mountains, a wide variety, all very nearby. But sometimes a long winter will get me down. Today, I'd prefer to be somewhere well south of here.

I can't wait to sing with George. "Here comes the sun, (do-do do-do) Here comes the sun. And I say, It's all right . . . " Here it comes.