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After installing about 30 weather stations in the area, I decided to create a map to show the conditions and the temperatures observed...
Here's one of my local neighbour hood, built about an hour ago.
Well I am going to Ottawa then come back with 2 PMX units
I must have misunderstood, I thought you meant *this* site (which I'm 99% positive he did on his own).
As an intellectual and internationally renowned critic (OK, I have readers as far away as Carlock), I am of course drawn to mulling the deepest intricacies of life.
Like, why women use moisturizer/skin softener after a bath while men never do.
I mean, isn't it women's skin that is softer to begin with? Don't men actually need it more?
Or, why a woman will read while sitting in the bathtub but a man never does, while a man will read when seated on that other key bathroom fixture but a woman rarely does?
Or, why men don't flinch when wearing Levis that have a tag on the back that lists their inseam and waist size … but there is not a woman on Earth who would EVER display those on her backside?
Yes, of all of life's questions, none may be more open to analysis than the famed Mars/Venus fault line between the sexes.
Here's another I discovered at a recent holiday social gathering –
The Weather Channel.
Women like to watch it, mainly for its entertainment value, or to know what to wear tomorrow, or to simply have some noise in the house.
They mull things, like Heather Tesch's blouse, or if Sharon Resultan is pregnant again, or if Marshall Sease has retired.
Men? They love The Weather Channel, too — but it's because they are so fascinated by weather.
It is subtly woven into the male gene.
Just below the skin's surface of almost any man, in fact, is a wannabe Jim Cantore or Mike Seidel, reporting live from the veranda of some wind-blasted Best Western in south Biloxi.
Al Roker, move over, dangit!!!
If you don't believe it, take note the next time there is nasty weather.
When word breaks that a storm may be on the way, a woman will simply mull the prospects, then go about her day.
A man? At first word of rugged weather, a man will go to the window and look out, or quickly romp to the nearest TV to turn on The Weather Channel and ogle the latest Doppler radar.
In the spring, as the tornado sirens go off, women get the children and simply head to the basement, out of danger's way.
Men? With deepest apologies to our wonderful children, phooey with that!
They quickly go to the house's highest level, to press their snouts against a window, like a drooling basset hound, to see if they can perhaps see a tornado, or they will go outside and stand in the driveway, gazing skyward to ogle the bubbling, gurgling clouds.
If you have not noticed, of all those "storm chasers" on TV, few are women. It's a good thing "Twister" was just a movie. Otherwise, Helen Hunt wouldn't have fit.
Men, on the other hand? They love to see video of cars spinning widely out of control during an awful ice storm, swerving into each other, spawning expressway mayhem.
Women are just glad it was not them.
Men love those Weather Channel features that show nasty-weather destruction, like "Full-Force Nature," where roofs are blown off like a shoebox lid or gutters flailed about like red licorice.
Women? They simply wince and turn to HGTV.
At the threat of a big snow, women mull all of its effects — whether the kids will have to get up early, or if school may be postponed, of if they need to run to the store for diapers and more Froot Loops.
Men? The forecast of a 10-inch snow springs them alive, like the president has just given a declaration of war or been assailed by a pair of flying wingtips.
They wonder if they have enough gas for the snow thrower. They mull the salt situation or whether they have enough weight in the back of the pickup.
Coincidentally we refer to a woman — Mother Nature — as the one who controls the weather, but c'mon, think about this — if it actually was a woman in control of the weather, wouldn't hail be referred to as "diamond-ring-sized" or "cookie-dough sized" or "Kate-Spade-purse-sized" … instead of those much more manly symbols, like a "nickel" or "golf ball" or "baseball-sized" hail?
Of course, as a man, I could be all wet on this, too.
Umbrella anyone?
