FISA-enabled rainless season feeds vegetarian giraffe named Michael
Welcome to February — the height of the ‘rainy season’ in Santa Barbara. So far, however, the rainy season has been…
“.. devoid of rain, Nazy.” I explained.
“Then how do you explain the mudslide?” Nazy replied.
That explanation is, in fact, easy. The rainy season begins on October 1 and goes through March. Thus far in this season there has been 2.79 inches of rain. And: 2.72 of those inches fell during the mudslide storm — almost all of it in less than an hour. (This is the official Santa Barbara rainfall, more fell in the Montecito Mountains.) For reference, the 2.79 inch total is 31% of ‘normal’. And, according to the ‘weather’ channel (see prediction at left), it doesn’t look like much is on the horizon. On the brighter side, it seems like one storm — not so concentrated — could solve the problem.
“Why did you put quotation marks around weather?” Nazy asked.
“According to this report, there is no weather in Southern California.” I replied.
This fact is ignored by local TV news stations that devote three (3!) segments to the weather in every 30 minute update. I am unable to discern, 95% of the time, a difference between the “today” and “yesterday” forecasts.
“That’s not true, Dan.” Nazy interrupts. “The reporters’ cheerful banter varies each night.”
“You are, of course, right my dear.” I reply. “Banter?” I thought. “Banter is witty repartee: On the ‘witty’ side, these reporters are only halfway there.”
In sum: Given that aside from one storm, we had at total of 0.07 inches of rain so far, the ‘Rainy Season’ is going to be indistinguishable from the dry season. They are blaming it on La Niña. Well —-
“Actually, Nazy,” I explained, “the Democrats are blaming it on La Niña. The Republicans are blaming it on an unscrupulous, FISA-enabled, collusion-free, unobstructed, Russian-less and corrupt exercise in (Stormy) Climatic disarray.”
“What?”
“It could be that the Democrats are blaming the rainless rainy season on Trump.”
“And they’d be right,” Nazy concluded. “I hope his season is cancelled, too.”
This week, Nazy and I took young Arrow, who has completely recovered from his cold, to the zoo. He really like animals, but the local zoo doesn’t have his favorites Zebra and Rhinoceros. But they did have…
“Giraffes!” I exclaimed. “And we can feed them.”
“We?” Nazy replied.
“I mean Arrow can feed them,” I countered. “Drat.” I thought.
“Right, Dan.”
“Would you like to help? Michael, the largest giraffe likes lettuce. Are you willing to part with the salad?”
“You can do it Dan. I’ll take the photos.”
“Arrow Jordans,” I explained to Nazy.
“What?”
“It’s not every little boy who gets a sneaker named after him.”
“Who is Jordan?” Nazy asked.
“He is a tall guy who used to play basketball.”
Arrow also likes the rabbits, goats and giant pigs — which are, truth be told, Nazy’s favorites as well.
Regular readers know that Tiger is a numbers aficionado. Accordingly, we added a new book, “Two” to his collection. He’d read it several times and he told everyone at his school that he had the book — which he brought to school to share.
“He was so excited,” his teacher told me. “I was reading the book to the class, but Tiger kept telling everyone what was going to happen. He told me that I should read faster and turn the pages.”
“That sounds like Tiger,” I replied. “I wonder if the author, Kathryn Otoshi, has a copyright on ‘Three’,” I thought.
As usual, Nazy and I visited the Santa Barbara farmers market this weekend. There are, of course, California rules about farmer’s markets.
“All of the products have to be grown within 60 miles of the market.” A supplier explained.
“And organic, non-GMO, gluten-free, pesticide-shunning produce is featured.” I replied.
“Of course.”
“It’s true, Dan.” Nazy interjected. “I bought pesticide-free lettuce from that guy last week and it was impossible to get rid of the bugs.”
“Wow! Pesticide-free and protein-enriched lettuce.” I replied. “But I’m finding some of the claims a little hard to believe.”
“Really?” Nazy asked. “Which ones?”
“How about:”
‘Dylans Raw Honey: We Make What We Sell’
“Bees make what we sell” would be better.”
"I bet they sell gluten-free engine blocks at the junk yard." I thought.
“.. devoid of rain, Nazy.” I explained.
“Then how do you explain the mudslide?” Nazy replied.
That explanation is, in fact, easy. The rainy season begins on October 1 and goes through March. Thus far in this season there has been 2.79 inches of rain. And: 2.72 of those inches fell during the mudslide storm — almost all of it in less than an hour. (This is the official Santa Barbara rainfall, more fell in the Montecito Mountains.) For reference, the 2.79 inch total is 31% of ‘normal’. And, according to the ‘weather’ channel (see prediction at left), it doesn’t look like much is on the horizon. On the brighter side, it seems like one storm — not so concentrated — could solve the problem.
“Why did you put quotation marks around weather?” Nazy asked.
“According to this report, there is no weather in Southern California.” I replied.
This fact is ignored by local TV news stations that devote three (3!) segments to the weather in every 30 minute update. I am unable to discern, 95% of the time, a difference between the “today” and “yesterday” forecasts.
“That’s not true, Dan.” Nazy interrupts. “The reporters’ cheerful banter varies each night.”
“You are, of course, right my dear.” I reply. “Banter?” I thought. “Banter is witty repartee: On the ‘witty’ side, these reporters are only halfway there.”
In sum: Given that aside from one storm, we had at total of 0.07 inches of rain so far, the ‘Rainy Season’ is going to be indistinguishable from the dry season. They are blaming it on La Niña. Well —-
“Actually, Nazy,” I explained, “the Democrats are blaming it on La Niña. The Republicans are blaming it on an unscrupulous, FISA-enabled, collusion-free, unobstructed, Russian-less and corrupt exercise in (Stormy) Climatic disarray.”
“What?”
“It could be that the Democrats are blaming the rainless rainy season on Trump.”
“And they’d be right,” Nazy concluded. “I hope his season is cancelled, too.”
This week, Nazy and I took young Arrow, who has completely recovered from his cold, to the zoo. He really like animals, but the local zoo doesn’t have his favorites Zebra and Rhinoceros. But they did have…
“Giraffes!” I exclaimed. “And we can feed them.”
“We?” Nazy replied.
“I mean Arrow can feed them,” I countered. “Drat.” I thought.
“Right, Dan.”
“Would you like to help? Michael, the largest giraffe likes lettuce. Are you willing to part with the salad?”
“You can do it Dan. I’ll take the photos.”
Arrow was remarkably bold 
In the past, I have tried this with Tiger, who is much more circumspect. I showed him a video of Arrow feeding Michael.
“Arrow isn’t afraid, Dan.”
“That’s right. Tiger. He’s pretty brave. Would you like to feed the Giraffe yourself next time?”
“No! Arrow just doesn’t understand, Dan.”
It is interesting to see how the grand(est)sons react to the zoo. Arrow liked the giraffe and the meerkats, but was unimpressed by the elephants. A while back, Tiger was mesmerized by a line of ants crossing a path and climbing a vertical wall at the zoo. (“How do they do that, Dan?&rdquo
Both of them, however, are in agreement that the sliding hill in the middle of the zoo is a lot of fun.
Arrow was wearing his new sneakers..
“Arrow Jordans,” I explained to Nazy.
“What?”
“It’s not every little boy who gets a sneaker named after him.”
“Who is Jordan?” Nazy asked.
“He is a tall guy who used to play basketball.”
Arrow also likes the rabbits, goats and giant pigs — which are, truth be told, Nazy’s favorites as well.
Regular readers know that Tiger is a numbers aficionado. Accordingly, we added a new book, “Two” to his collection. He’d read it several times and he told everyone at his school that he had the book — which he brought to school to share.
“He was so excited,” his teacher told me. “I was reading the book to the class, but Tiger kept telling everyone what was going to happen. He told me that I should read faster and turn the pages.”
“That sounds like Tiger,” I replied. “I wonder if the author, Kathryn Otoshi, has a copyright on ‘Three’,” I thought.
As usual, Nazy and I visited the Santa Barbara farmers market this weekend. There are, of course, California rules about farmer’s markets.
“All of the products have to be grown within 60 miles of the market.” A supplier explained.
“And organic, non-GMO, gluten-free, pesticide-shunning produce is featured.” I replied.
“Of course.”
“It’s true, Dan.” Nazy interjected. “I bought pesticide-free lettuce from that guy last week and it was impossible to get rid of the bugs.”
“Wow! Pesticide-free and protein-enriched lettuce.” I replied. “But I’m finding some of the claims a little hard to believe.”
“Really?” Nazy asked. “Which ones?”
“How about:”
‘Dylans Raw Honey: We Make What We Sell’
“Bees make what we sell” would be better.”
"I bet they sell gluten-free engine blocks at the junk yard." I thought.
In fairness, Santa Barbara is a beautiful, clean place. The rainfall that caused the nearby mudslides, caused the grass at Mission Park to turn green. And, in turn, that attracted a huge crane.
For last week's letter, please click here
Arrow at the Zoo
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