The Weather Underground confuses me mightily. In spite of their station being in Little Italy or something, like a mile away and thus much much closer than The Weather Network or Environment Canada's airport location, I can't make their current weather jibe with mine. They'll assure me there was a thunderstorm 45 minutes ago, when I was biking happily home in calm sun. They say there was fog at 7 pm yesterday when in fact there was a mighty rainstorm that soaked me to the skin, because I was walking yesterday to get exercise. (And let me say, in this record-breakingly rainy month, yesterday was the first time in three weeks to exhibit the 'grey wet flowery May' topos. And in this extremely volatile month, that Mother's Day weekend feels a very long time ago.)
I don't mind. Wunderground's default forecast seems to be 'thunderstorms', where other people forecast 'isolated showers' or even 'cloudy'. My life will be much calmer if I don't have to believe them. Gladstone, Three Parts Dead Harkness, A Discovery of Witches Williams, The Shadow Pavilion Kate Ross, Whom the Gods Love McGuire, Rosemary and Rue Pratchett, A Blink of the Screen LeGuin, A Fisherman of the Inland Sea Higashino, Salvation of a Saint McGuire, An Artificial Night
What was I doing this month to have such sad results? An Artificial Night took me five days to read. Walking, I suppose, and gardening, and being one-eyed for much of the time.