Lori Borgman
Some people are attracted to social media apps.
I'm interested in weather apps.
I check the weather app more often than I check the news app. Weather apps tend to be less worrisome than news apps. Especially in a presidential election year.
I don't mean to brag, but I know the predicted highs, lows, and percent chances of rain over the next five days in three different states. This is my version of low-cost travel.
Earlier today I wandered along the rocky coast of Maine where it was 65 degrees with some sunshine. I refilled my coffee and stopped by Charleston, South Carolina, where the weather was starting to get sweltering around mid-afternoon. From there I rolled to the Boundary Waters in northern Minnesota. Jacket weather.
I check the weather app every night before I go to bed. I wonder if a storm is coming so I can open the window and hear the rain, wind and thunder.
I check the weather app every morning to see what I should wear and what my hairstyle will be like today.
If my husband wanted to know what our local three-day outlook was, he would consult me, not his phone number. I can tell him what the temperature has been, is, and will be in the future, and whether he wants to water the garden.
When I was a kid, if you wanted to know the weather, you called the bank. Almost every town has a bank with a line that records the time and temperature. As far as I know, no one checks 30 times a day.
A few years ago, if someone in the house was concerned about the weather, they would hang a large instrument called a barometer on the wall, usually above the television. Back in the day, talking about the weather was a form of entertainment. That was before Netflix and Disney+.
A barometer is like a crystal ball. Those who know how to interpret it know a storm is coming even before the storm realizes it is coming. These men later came together to create The Weather Channel.
One of the most wonderful things about summer is the colorful language used to describe it. You may sweat, sweat, or sweat like a pig, even though pigs don't sweat. You can also bake, fry, sizzle, melt, wilt, and roast. Summer is a culinary wonder.
On extremely humid days, my father-in-law would often say, “It's closed today.”
At first, I wondered what he felt was approaching him. I understood what he meant after spending a week one summer in this 100-year-old house with only window fans for cooling.
Here's his version of, “It's not the heat, it's the humidity.”
One phrase that should always be banned is: “Is it hot enough for you?”
If you have to ask this question, you already know the answer.
When it's so hot outside that it melts your weather app, just remember this—winter will be back soon.
Lori Borgman is a columnist, author and speaker. Send comments to [email protected].
