I pay attention to the weather more than anyone I know. My health, my work, even my social life—all these things are connected to the forecast. It is beyond ritual or logic, this weather checking. I own metrological gadgets few normal citizens own. I have rain gauges and barometers and remote-controlled indoor/outdoor setups that compare and contrast conditions from my barnyard to my living room. When I wake up every morning the first thing I do—before I take off the covers or consider a trip to the bathroom—is check the weather. In the dark cold of winter morning a brave appendage reaches out from my blanket den of warmth and clamors for my smart phone. That phone is always close to me, and not because of texts or twitter (those are for people who do not check the weather as often) but because that little black box is so much more than a personal assistant. When you live by the climate like I do, that phone becomes your babysitter, best friend, worst enemy and fortuneteller. Within seconds of clicking on my news I find out everything that is happening to me that day, the next day, and probably into the rest of the week. I would call myself obsessed, but that isn’t accurate. Obsessed implies some sort of control. I am not obsessed. I am possessed. Anxiety is not the same as ownership.
Enjoy the story of a young writer living in Washington County with her fancy dogs, sheep, lots of chickens, fiber & meat rabbits, geese, ducks, turkeys, a hive and a garden. Expect to hear a lot about mountain music, the civil war, local food, and my friends along the way. It's a big time folks.