So, Friday night on the eleven o'clock news, the weather forecaster whipped out the charts and graphs, cranked up the radar, and lo, there's a biiig storm off the coast -- remnants of a typhoon in the South Pacific -- heading our way. We are going to get wet!
We could look for rain starting late Saturday night, turning heavy by Sunday morning, and staying steady all day Sunday. Maybe as much as an inch or so, which, in Portland, is like a warning that you should start marching the animals two-by-two into the Ark.
Since I had pages to get done on the book -- and yes, I did manage to get them all written and even as we speak, the novel is wending its electronic way to the publisher, the draft finished, thank you very much -- then a pouring rain would actually be helpful. I wouldn't be tempted to go play outside, do yard work, like that.
So what was the weather at Steve's house like during the predicted deluge?
Partly cloudy, very humid, and sticky warm.
Not a drop of rain fell Saturday night, nor all day Sunday, not here. Zippo. Zero.
And all the boards did shrink ...
Must be terrible to be a weather forecaster and to blow it that bad. Over and over again ...
#I have a copy of the cover art for Predator: Turnabout, and it looks really good, but I'm not allowed to post it here until it goes final.
Keep watching the skies ...