My mom Bev (some of you know her as “The Bev-inator”, others as “Beverage”) has an obsession with the weather.   Clearly, she missed her calling.  She should have been a meteorologist … or at a minimum, a weather bunny.  She can tell you what’s going to happen in any part of the continental United States at any given moment of the day.   She can give you a long-range forecast, a short-range forecast or just a general overview of global warming.

Want to know more about El Niño?  Ask Bev.  Nor’easters?  Again, Bev is your gal.  When Des Moines got socked with more than 15 inches of snow two weeks ago, she called it early.  Who needs a Super Doppler when you’ve got arthritis?  My grandmother could predict the weather too.  She “felt it in her bones”.   A lot of people think that’s malarkey.  The jury is still out as far as I’m concerned.

My mom’s idea of a good time is watching reruns of “The Sopranos” and, of course, The Weather Channel … ad nausea.  She’ll flip between the two … always missing out on integral parts of both shows.   Apparently, unusual weather phenomena and mob violence is enough drama for her.  And if you don’t want to know who her favorite meteorologists are, don’t ask.  Senate filibusters have had shorter speeches.

My mom has always had a gloom-and-doom approach to the forecast.  She’s a worrier.  So if there’s a threat … a hint … a 10% chance of snow, my mom will warn the world of impending disaster.  Better to be safe than sorry, I guess.  I’m surprised she didn’t have a seizure during the recent Blizzard of ’09.   Iowa is the PERFECT state for weird weather too.  From tornadoes to pestilence, we get it all.  Thus, I know somewhere in the back of my mom’s head she’s been planning how to survive a tsunami … despite the fact we’re firmly land-locked.

Whatever you do, do NOT mock my mom’s love affair with climate, dew points, hook echoes or cumulonimbus cloud formations.  If you do, prepare to feel the wrath of Hurricane Bev.  She takes her weather VERY seriously.   I can make fun of her, of course … because she’ll never read this blog.  At least I hope she won’t.  If she does, I’m screwed.  I’d rather be struck by lightning.

You do NOT fool with Mother Nature … or Mother Mackie.