Dear Mother Nature

When did you turn on me? I thought we had an understanding. I would not taunt you or test you, and you in turn, would not make me too miserable. I gave you my expectations; mild winters with little or no ice. Mild summers with as little humidity as possible. I begged to be spared natural disasters. I followed through on my end of the deal. I did not doubt you when you threatened me. When the heat was too much, I went inside. When it was too cold I added more layers. It was all a vain attempt to keep you happy. You are a fickle woman. So fickle in fact, I wonder if you are a redhead. Somewhere along the way, you became jaded. You mock me and my attempts to appease you and your affects. I am through trying to change your bitter ways.

While growing up in Missouri you gave me mostly mild winters with only one memory of an ice storm. This storm provided a welcome break from school for the young girl I was so I let you get away with you mischief. My time in North Carolina provided me extremely humid summers, summers so sticky I often wondered why I even took a shower or left the house. I looked beyond this little character flaw with a mountain escape so close that I could smell the cool air. The floods of Hurricane Floyd did not even deter my love for the Tar heel state. I stayed, after drying out, and continued my love affair. Although my time in Connecticut was short, I thoroughly enjoyed what you offered in the spring, summer and fall. Connecticut’s shoreline is still one of my favorites and I think of my time there fondly. I decided it was best to get out while things were good, and before you turned on me in the winter. As I headed south to my paradise in Florida I was warned of potential dangers. I was informed there had not been a hurricane in that area in almost ten years. Upon arrival to the Sunshine State you gave me a slap in the face with Hurricane Charlie. Once I recovered you decided to test my loyalty to you and my new home. More than five hurricanes in two years and an untold amount of threats I was done. I began to doubt you. I would watch the weather and pay close attention to “the cone of uncertainty” as the meteorologist explained the next one could hit anywhere from Naples to Pensacola. Too much of a risk for a gal with a new baby.

Back in the great state of misery I was told you had been behaving. The winters had been mild and summers were the usual humid sauna. Why did you follow me? I thought we had let bygones be bygones? The unprecedented ice storm in January of 2007 was enough to send me to Arizona. During our move to the new house in February of this year, you thought it was clever to follow last year’s storm with another one that would render us powerless for a week. You evil, evil woman. Now our fair city has recovered and you are back with more. This time the moisture is not in the form of ice, but rain. So much rain in fact, if it did not rain anymore all year we would be well ahead of schedule by two years. The rain overflows in our gutters and causes rivers in the streets. The lakes are flooding and the docks are underwater. Cars are swept away in what seems to be only a few inches. Each time you tell us you are done, and provide a few days of reprieve you come back.

The night Daddy took the video above, the boys and I were hunkered down in the "most inner room of the house" which happens to be a bathroom. Funnels had been spotted only a mile from the house.

I am starting to think you need to get laid.