No hiding her inner meteorologist at this time of year

In my next life, I will be a meteorologist. Heck, I seem to be one right now.

I am, after all, a weather woman possessed.

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“What’s it supposed to do today?” the husband will inquire over morning coffee.

“Showers this morning,” I will reply. “Becoming windy by noon. Minus two and a chance of flurries this evening.”

The husband has seen this weather movie before. The husband, let’s just say, knows me well enough to recognize that I consult Environment Canada more often than a chef consults the stove.

Which is to say: a lot.

Never used to be like this. Back in the day, I’d check out the weather report on the dinnertime news, and I’d be good to go for 24 hours.

Not anymore.

“Woo,” I find myself saying, oh, at least six times a day. “The weather office has just posted a grey bulletin.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the husband will ask.

“It’s an advisory,” the meteorologist in me will reply. “In this case, it means strong winds, gusting to 90 kilometres by the water. That’s enough to do damage. We should tie down the patio chairs.”

If I’m not a meteorologist in this here life, I’m doing a darned good impression.

After all, when other people are going about their daily business — throwing in a load of laundry, running to the grocery store or sitting mindlessly in front of the television, wondering where all the good programming went — I am apt to be fixated on my phone.

“Holy smokes,” I’ll be saying.

“Holy what?” the husband will ask.

“Holy smokes,” I’ll repeat. “There’s a red weather warning.”

“What’s that mean?” you-know-who will inquire.

“That means we could have 15 centimetres of snow at lower elevations, and 25 inland. This will be accompanied by strong outflow winds and temps as low as minus 10.”

I even sound the part.

“Oh,” the husband will observe. Needless to say, he does not sound the part.

“Oh, indeed,” I will continue. “Almost certainly means highway closures and ferry cancellations.”

The meteorologist, I must say, moves into much higher gear at this time of year. Sure, I check my weather app in June and July, but I’m far less inclined to make a major proclamation when Environment Canada is calling for sunny skies, 18 degrees and not the slightest breeze.

So those around me — husband included — can take comfort in knowing that this weather gal will cool her jets in the not-so-distant future.

In the meantime, though, they should be forewarned: those forecasts will keep on coming. It’s not like I can help myself. It’s apparently who I am.

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