The Dust Devil Made Me Do It

There was a low front moving into the valley, causing temperatures to drop from the above average 95 it had been to a below average of 68, accompanied by steady winds and rain throughout the day.  The wind had started before I got up and by 7:30, when Mom wandered into the kitchen, it was blowing steadily with intermittent gusts.

“It’s going to be an interested weather day,” I commented, watching the branches of the mesquite tree outside the kitchen window whip back and forth while I was waiting for a couple of English muffins to toast.

“Today?” Mom mumbled, not looking up from her morning crossword.

“Yup.  The morning show on TV said sustained winds of 20 and gusts up to 40 miles an hour by this afternoon.  It’s already pretty breezy outside.”

“Are you sure that’s today and not tomorrow?” she asked, not bothering to look out the window before pulling the front page of the paper out from under the pile on the kitchen table.

“That’s what they said on the morning news,” I replied as the toaster oven dinged and I pulled the English muffins out.  “It’s been updated since last night.”

“It says here that it’ll be windy, with gusts up to 30,” she said, reading from the Republic before refolding the paper and putting it back on the bottom of the stack so she could resume work on the crossword.

“I said they updated it from last night’s forecast,” I repeated loudly, spreading hot pepper jelly on Bill’s muffin.

“Well the paper doesn’t say that and it gets delivered first thing in the morning.”

“But it gets printed at night.  The weather changes overnight and the morning news show is probably more accurate than the paper,” I argued as I slathered peanut butter on my muffin as well as on my thumb since I was looking a Mom and not my breakfast.

“If you say so,” she muttered.  “But the TV weatherman is never right, so I’m going with the paper.”

“Okay, you do that.  I’m still bringing in the patio umbrella and the furniture cushions, but I’ll leave your bedroom windows open to let in a little fresh air.  How about that?” I countered

“Fine with me.  You’re the one who has to clean up the mess after the dust storm hits,” she shrugged, finishing the crossword and gulping down the rest of her OJ.


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