When It Rains, It Pours?

It's funny the small differences you notice when you move half-way across the country. Like how Lubbock has a severe lack of vegetation, Dallas drivers really are as bad as I thought, and Texas highways beat the pants off of any other highway system I've encountered so far. But the most apparent difference came on my official welcome back to not-so-sunny California. It rained for a week and a half straight.

I should have been suspicious following the first day of rain. Between TV shows, during the nightly forecast, and topping the news line-up, meteorologists warned Bay Area residents of severe storms. Having survived the first day of this so-called "severe" weather (which fell on the other end of the "severe" spectrum in my book), I wondered what exactly I was missing! There was no deafening thunder, no Armageddon-like lightning shows, and you could barely hear the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting our skylight.

By the 4th day of non-stop rain (when I say non-stop I mean that literally) and with the rain hitting deceivingly soft, I found myself rushing to the window hourly and peering into a sheet of falling disappointment. With the constant fall eroding the hills and my patience, it occurred to me that perhaps California's definition of severe weather might be a bit different. So after 6 days of rain, I officially conceded.

Severe doesn't have to come in with a bang or sound like the the Good Lord himself coming down from the sky; it doesn't have to leave highway underpasses flooded or sweep away unsuspecting motorists. But by sheer and undying persistence, it can cause havoc to traffic, make hillsides landslide, and challenge the patience of its transplants who move here for one reason...the weather!