What did I expect? I have lived here in this schizophrenic climate most of my life, and it still catches me off guard. The one consistency, the thing the weather man never gets wrong, is wind.
I know I complain about the weather here in West Texas a lot, but truth is, I don't want to be anywhere else. I hate to travel and my motto has always been, Home is where your stuff is. I don't mind so much being somewhere else, as long as I can be home in an instant. Like on Star Trek, I want Scottie to beam me up as soon as I am ready to go.
My boss just got back from New York City, and said he had a great time. I think maybe I would like to see New York, then I picture myself, in the middle of this huge city, surrounded by people, and wanting to be home right then. Not as soon as possible, but right then. I know this could happen. It happened to me in the middle of a traffic jam in Atlanta Georgia, while tornado sirens were blaring. It happened to me at a bus stop, with a thousand other people, at midnight in St. Louis. It happened to me in road construction leaving work today.
I believe the world consist of Pioneers and Settlers. I am a Settler. A hundred or more years ago, the pioneers were rolling across these plains in their covered wagons. One of them, probably a moody blond, said "Hey guys, I think I'm gonna stay here awhile. I know it's windy, and there's nothing but jackrabbits and rattlesnakes, but my butt's tired of riding. I think I can settle for this." Yes, I am a Settler.