Super Sabado: Adventures in REAL WEATHER

It never rains in southern California, so when it hails we all go insane.

Yesterday some Real Weather came to San Diego. Not only were most of us taken by surprise, but so was my van, which lost its alternator in the middle of rush hour. I saw ever so many fingers yesterday!

One alternator replacement, plus labor:

$332.86

KA-CHING!

Later last night, as the hail came down—and down, and DOWN—we saw lots of flashes, too. Some of it was lightening, but most of it came from our neighbors’ cameras. Didi waved at us from her garage, but we couldn’t hear what she shouted because—surprise! Hail is LOUD.

Eh, said my brother-in-law, a little rain and it’ll all be gone in an hour.

Not so. A little of it is still here as I begin my Super Sabado this morning, and I’ve got the picture above to prove it.

While we adults shivered, the kids raced out and rode their Boogie boards down our hail-covered street. Squirt and Tiger came back soaked, happy, and very loud.

To all of you who live with Real Weather, let the ridicule begin.

Hey, have you noticed we’ve dropped into the first person plural pronoun when we do Super Sabado? Maybe that’s what happens when you consume mass quantities of guacamole with Margarita chasers.

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Monday, the office next door got a new paint job. The painters were outfitted in masks, but it didn’t do me and my coworkers much good. By about ten we all seeing visions of lap dancing midgets. My stoned, usually workaholic, boss went home early to wax her dogs.

Pat Kirby of Ramblings from the Desert, describing one of the many perks of working where she does.

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I felt something on my feet, looked down………………chickens!!! Full grown “Fog horn Leghorn” type chickens…pecking at my toes through my shoes!!! Inside the house!!!

Michelle from Justitia, on why paint fumes would be kind of superfluous in her job in Australia’s judicial system.

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What would you rather be: The Tooth Fairy. The Easter Bunny. Santa Claus. Or, The Grim Reaper. Why?

Kait of Kait’s Chaos, asking some pretty deep questions. And what we want to know is, just where are those damn paint fumes when you need them, anyway?

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… If you ask me, the best way to give birth is probably with serious buzz on but I’m guessing that would lead to visits from social services at best…

KJ from Raising Devils, grimly anticipating the birth of her third child as our crotch cringes in sympathy. Ask your doctor about paint fumes, KJ; paint fumes!

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…that took a lot of talking to to get me to do it – mostly I didn’t want to look like a total freak so I did it then self medicated afterwards…

Denise Belinda McDonald of Dennie’s Thoughts, on how she gets through intense life experiences—ghosts, spiders, and shoe loss—without benefit of paint fumes.

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Ugh. They said they were doing it as gifts to their husbands, for second honeymoons, or second husbands, for special occasions, etc. EXCUSE ME.

April of Desperate Writer, on… eewwwww…

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So, he uses the freezer, bakes, and likes to kick back with a drink every now and then. If he wasn’t sooooo cute–he’d be gone!

Bonnie Calhoun‘s daughter on why she’s gonna keep her man—we mean, her DOG. Why she’ll keep her DOG.

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He carries a briefcase but does not look like an office worker. He also carries a golfing umbrella, a rucksack and an unkempt beard. Yet there he is every day at the same time trudging the same route. Where is he going, what does he do, is he really a tramp?

Mark McLellan of Gullible’s Travels, describing one of three local vagrants. We’re not sure, Mark, but that guy sounds like San Diego’s version of college professors, some of whom have been known to inhale a few paint fumes in their day.

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Why else would they put the display on our way out? How’s that for irony? “Checking out” at Costco now takes on an entirely new meaning.

Teri of Here’s to Happy Women, on the Casket Road Show at her local Costco.

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The amusing part is he seems to have NO idea what he is doing… at least that is the look on his face! He is just doing his thing, going to town. It is totally hilarious and really distasteful all at the same time.

Susan from the Church of Angst, on Auggie’s recent, um… discovery.

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I don’t advise pointing those errors out though or rushing off to comment acidly on the ant hill of some writer’s board about the hypocrisy of the industry.

Caesar’s wife was not an agent.

Might as well tuck up your little rootlets and trot off to the compost pile all by your little self.

Bernita Harris from An Innocent A-Blog giving some gentle, writerly advice in terms even gardeners would understand.

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As I finished this up we had another bit of Real Weather and this time I brought out the camera. Here’s another picture:

Hail in San Diego is big enough news to bring out the cameras. Guess who the kid is without a coat?

The ambulance sirens are going on all around us because San Diegans not only tend to panic behind the wheel when faced with an icy road, but they have heart attacks when they see two episodes of hail in 24 hours.

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For those of you who’ve made it to the very end of this week’s Super Sabado, check out Pat’s Transportation Personalities before it gets forwarded to you and a gazillion other folks by your Aunt Eunice and Cousin Elmo.

Happy weekend, everyone!