The Stupid Weather Channel

My husband and I are in Florida today, no thanks to The Weather Channel, which until last night I considered a reliable source but now I know is a total waste of time, after they swore there was a HUGE WINTER SNOWSTORM coming to New England, and it would be THE WORST EVER on Rte. 95 between Portland, Maine and Boston, with accumulations up to one foot of snow by 9 am. We were scheduled to fly out of Boston at 11:30 and so would be leaving our home by 8 in the morning, driving on 95 the whole way. In fact, the graphic they showed on TV was my Saab pulling out of our driveway and driving to Logan Airport, under dangerous ice and snow conditions the whole way. Naturally I freaked out--who in their right mind wouldn't? (Mitch, but that is another blog post.)

So, remaining glued to the TV, I called our Florida hotel and changed our room reservation for a day later. Then I called our pet sitter and told her we were not leaving in the morning. Then Mitch called the airport and tried to change our flights to and fro, but learned we would incur a change fee of $350 per ticket, EACH WAY, so he held off, just in case. But The Weather Channel was adamant: Winter Storm Jove--they name them now--was a-comin', and with a vengeance.

I wanted to cancel the whole trip, but Mitch said he "had a feeling it wouldn't happen." We both slept fitfully. I got up at three in the morning and looked outside; no snow. Then I got up at four; no snow. Finally I got up for good at six; no snow. I turned on the Weather Channel and they pointed out that Winter Storm Jove sure had brought some mighty cold temps. It's cold out there! Man oh man, is it cold. Oh, by the way, no snow. (Never mind.)

They did not apologize for messing with our heads and causing us to have a huge fight. I re-booked the hotel. I called the pet sitter. We scrambled out the door, all verklempt if you know what I mean, and drove to the airport in Boston this morning on 100% dry roads bathed in BLINDING SUNSHINE. We saw not one friggin' snowflake on the way. That's plain nutty, if you ask me. Plus the fact, I now think my husband is a witch. (And yes, male witches are still called witches.)