How much more wind can we take?
This article in our local newspaper was written on January 29, 2012 by a friend of mine named Cindy Bower. She is also in our ward at church.Many Wyomingites are nearing their Maximum Expected Wind Tolerance Capacity and it is still January. With Wyoming wind as our constant companion, even the natives are growing restless this winter.
We laugh as we say it keeps our air clean and controls population growth. I wasn’t laughing when my storm door, hit by an 80 mph gust, propelled me across the porch, into a delivery man and injured my hip. That could have been a lethal weapon.
Children’s literature romanticizes wind as in Thornton Burgess’ “Old Mother West Wind Series,” “Mary Poppins,” “Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day” and others. Those are not reality books for sure, but as a child I didn’t realize that. It wasn’t until I left Douglas for college in Sheridan that I learned wind doesn’t blow everyone’s snow away.
Upon arrival there, a kindly Welcome Wagon lady arrived with a goodie basket. She perched herself on my love seat testifying to the virtues of Sheridan, which by the way were all true. Before concluding, she said, “Oh, you will notice that the wind doesn’t blow here as it does in some places in Wyoming.” This raised my young ire a bit, enough to try to count more than a handful of windy days in the three years I lived there. I was unsuccessful.
Wyoming weathermen typically report light breezes, or breezy with gusts, or call for a high wind warning. This system of categorizing is lackluster at best, or should I say “lack-bluster.”What about terms such as window rattling, branch breaking, fence dismantling, lip sticking and teeth drying, eyelid plastering to face, car door ripping, or knock you off your porch?
We in Wyoming take pride in resilience. Some of our adaptations to wind include:
In our greetings and departures we don’t say “Have a good day,”half as often as we say “Don’t blow away.”
Indoors we can tell the wind is blowing by the wake in the toilet bowl and the size of the dark circles under our eyes from sleep deprivation.
Conversation volume is adjusted according to wind speed. I believe “The Loud Family” on old episodes of “Saturday Night Live”were actually filmed on a windy night in Casper.
Halloween costumes are chosen based on wind forecasts. Our artistic daughter made an Oreo cookie costume one year. Her large cardboard circles were painted like Oreos. Shoulder and side straps held in puffy white cream filling of quilt batting. Before getting to the corner her batting was whipped away and dancing high in the night sky. The cookie blew into her face, bloodying her nose. Every time I see the movie “E.T.” I wonder at children trick-or-treating on a carefree warm and windless evening.
Happy memories often include wind. One vivid annual Christmas memory is the wild clacking of my grandparent’s outdoor Christmas lights, welcoming us for turkey dinner.
Wyoming athletes can out-kick, out throw, and outrun anyone anywhere. They aren’t just battling other teams, but the wind too.
Recycling items collect in garages and car trunks for months as we wait for a calm day to hit the big green bins, hopefully avoiding our items blowing to Midwest.
Garbage cans are labeled so neighbors can return lost blown-away ones found wedged into bushes and window wells down the block. We are not only dodging deer and antelope in our city streets, but tumbling trash bins and fallen branches.
Gone are my Great Grandma Sedar’s beaded hairnets and silken headscarves. Tight ponytails with double elastic headbands and multiple hair pins help us avoid smarting hair lashings to the face. My younger sister avoided blowing hair-in-the-mouth problems by having my grandmother French braid her hair so tightly that it would last for weeks, pulling her eyes so far to the sides that she could barely open them.
Wyoming sportsmen calculate wind speed and direction before casting or aiming. Finally ... an answer to the Dick Cheney shooting mishap ... he just forgot he wasn’t in Windy Wyoming.
Driving our windy highways and byways lends to blinding zero visibility ground blizzards even on the clearest of days and nights. Our adult children have graduated from counting road kill to reporting each overturned semi-truck and high-profile vehicle on their routes. There are more of those anyway and some are just as flat.
We could successfully petition an ordinance for a “free pet return” on days that fences blow down and dogs escape.
Whether the temperature is nearing 100 degrees or 20 below zero, if it is calm we say the same thing ... “beautiful day isn’t it?”On a calm day we are frowned upon for saying the “W” word.
Peter Paul and Mary sang that, “The answer my friend, is blowing in the wind.” Maybe if it would stop blowing long enough we could just hear it.
We laugh as we say it keeps our air clean and controls population growth. I wasn’t laughing when my storm door, hit by an 80 mph gust, propelled me across the porch, into a delivery man and injured my hip. That could have been a lethal weapon.
Children’s literature romanticizes wind as in Thornton Burgess’ “Old Mother West Wind Series,” “Mary Poppins,” “Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day” and others. Those are not reality books for sure, but as a child I didn’t realize that. It wasn’t until I left Douglas for college in Sheridan that I learned wind doesn’t blow everyone’s snow away.
Upon arrival there, a kindly Welcome Wagon lady arrived with a goodie basket. She perched herself on my love seat testifying to the virtues of Sheridan, which by the way were all true. Before concluding, she said, “Oh, you will notice that the wind doesn’t blow here as it does in some places in Wyoming.” This raised my young ire a bit, enough to try to count more than a handful of windy days in the three years I lived there. I was unsuccessful.
Wyoming weathermen typically report light breezes, or breezy with gusts, or call for a high wind warning. This system of categorizing is lackluster at best, or should I say “lack-bluster.”What about terms such as window rattling, branch breaking, fence dismantling, lip sticking and teeth drying, eyelid plastering to face, car door ripping, or knock you off your porch?
We in Wyoming take pride in resilience. Some of our adaptations to wind include:
In our greetings and departures we don’t say “Have a good day,”half as often as we say “Don’t blow away.”
Indoors we can tell the wind is blowing by the wake in the toilet bowl and the size of the dark circles under our eyes from sleep deprivation.
Conversation volume is adjusted according to wind speed. I believe “The Loud Family” on old episodes of “Saturday Night Live”were actually filmed on a windy night in Casper.
Halloween costumes are chosen based on wind forecasts. Our artistic daughter made an Oreo cookie costume one year. Her large cardboard circles were painted like Oreos. Shoulder and side straps held in puffy white cream filling of quilt batting. Before getting to the corner her batting was whipped away and dancing high in the night sky. The cookie blew into her face, bloodying her nose. Every time I see the movie “E.T.” I wonder at children trick-or-treating on a carefree warm and windless evening.
Happy memories often include wind. One vivid annual Christmas memory is the wild clacking of my grandparent’s outdoor Christmas lights, welcoming us for turkey dinner.
Wyoming athletes can out-kick, out throw, and outrun anyone anywhere. They aren’t just battling other teams, but the wind too.
Recycling items collect in garages and car trunks for months as we wait for a calm day to hit the big green bins, hopefully avoiding our items blowing to Midwest.
Garbage cans are labeled so neighbors can return lost blown-away ones found wedged into bushes and window wells down the block. We are not only dodging deer and antelope in our city streets, but tumbling trash bins and fallen branches.
Gone are my Great Grandma Sedar’s beaded hairnets and silken headscarves. Tight ponytails with double elastic headbands and multiple hair pins help us avoid smarting hair lashings to the face. My younger sister avoided blowing hair-in-the-mouth problems by having my grandmother French braid her hair so tightly that it would last for weeks, pulling her eyes so far to the sides that she could barely open them.
Wyoming sportsmen calculate wind speed and direction before casting or aiming. Finally ... an answer to the Dick Cheney shooting mishap ... he just forgot he wasn’t in Windy Wyoming.
Driving our windy highways and byways lends to blinding zero visibility ground blizzards even on the clearest of days and nights. Our adult children have graduated from counting road kill to reporting each overturned semi-truck and high-profile vehicle on their routes. There are more of those anyway and some are just as flat.
We could successfully petition an ordinance for a “free pet return” on days that fences blow down and dogs escape.
Whether the temperature is nearing 100 degrees or 20 below zero, if it is calm we say the same thing ... “beautiful day isn’t it?”On a calm day we are frowned upon for saying the “W” word.
Peter Paul and Mary sang that, “The answer my friend, is blowing in the wind.” Maybe if it would stop blowing long enough we could just hear it.
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