I really don’t know a damned thing about meteorology. Weather reports are, for me, the ultimate soporific. Cold fronts, warm fronts, falling barometric pressure, rising barometric pressure, and isobars make my hair hurt. By contrast, weather itself gets my attention.
So here we are in Jersey with temperatures in the nineties (and higher) over the last three days, and all of a sudden I hear “bang, crack, bang, crack, crack, crack” as if someone were shooting buckshot at the house. I look out on the deck, which just five minutes earlier was a blistering inferno the surface would burn your bare feet, and it is covered with little chunks of ICE, each about the size of half a marble. Farookin’ hail!
I think I know more about computers than I know about weather.