Better And Better

If you don't draw yours, I won't draw mine. A police officer, working in the small town that he lives in, focusing on family and shooting and coffee, and occasionally putting some people in jail.

Thursday, June 05, 2008

Blow me away.

For the last three days, the average wind speed hasn't dropped below 20 mph. Yesterday, it was gusting up to 45 mph, with sustained winds of 35. A significant increase in "Prowler" calls is evident-- with wind like that, houses creak and rock a little. The majority of the calls say that there's someone in the attics of these houses, because brick veneers go up to the soffits, and no further. The roofs themselves are just composite shingles tacked to thin decking, nailed to a 2X4 or perhaps a grid that's toe-nailed to the frame of the house. (In truth, the rafters and trusses found in most houses actually provide a superstructure that strengthens the house, and thus are part of the frame, itself.) When wind of this velocity its thin decking on a frame that way, it shifts it a bit. The result is a creak or thump upstairs. And when you're in a single-story house, that means that a cop is about to get sweaty.

See, the wind may be blowing, but the temperature is still running between 95 and 100 degrees Fahrenheit. And those attics are heating up, despite the wind outside them. And someone seems to have forgotten to install our ballistic vests with their integral cooling systems. And fibreglass dust and regular dust stick very, very well to sweat.

Garbage cans are in the street or across and down the street from their original locations on the curbs. The wind blows grit that gets into every crevice of your skin. Words are lost on the wind, making people ask each other to repeat themselves. On the radio, dispatchers are calling officers again and again, to no avail.

Inside, there's a nervous feel, even when the house isn't rocking-- there's a constant rush and roar, with the occasionally hiss of light things hitting the house, and thump of heavier things hitting the house, which sounds exactly like someone on the doorstep.

I know that, before this summer is through, I shall regret that I said this: I wish the wind would die down.

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At Friday, June 06, 2008 8:07:00 AM, Blogger Evil Lunch Lady said...

I do hope the wind dies down for you, but also for the fire risk. Dry and hot and wind make a nasty combination:(

Stay safe!

At Friday, June 06, 2008 10:55:00 AM, Anonymous Shrimp said...

I'll bet there's been plenty of times when you've wished you could just say, "Well, are you a native born Texican? You do do have a working firearm, right? So why exactly am I being bothered to look into your home for potential intruders?"

Oh well...

At Friday, June 06, 2008 11:02:00 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I live in the very windy Southern California High Desert, and when the winds blow hot, I think of the Raymond Chandler quote:

There was a desert wind blowing that night. It was one of those hot dry Santa Anas that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands' necks. Anything can happen. You can even get a full glass of beer at a cocktail lounge.

-- "Red Wind"

At Friday, June 06, 2008 6:30:00 PM, Blogger Old NFO said...

Hang in there Matt! Look on the bright side, you are NOT up in those attics in turnout gear!

At Friday, June 06, 2008 9:50:00 PM, Blogger 5150Wife said...

I hear ya'. Been windier than all get out around here too. Shakes the whole house.
Coming home from California this week, we drove across the TX panhandle. It was 105 in Shamrock when we stopped for a bite. I thought about you and LawDog, wondered if you were swelterin' like we were.

At Sunday, June 08, 2008 9:28:00 PM, Anonymous jimbob86 said...

"Dry and hot and wind "....

Count your blessings, sir. You could have saturated soil, water weeping through your basement walls and floor, and a solid week of rain forecast..........

Me, I am happy that I'm not in several of my neighbor's situation: the backflow "flap" valve failed and let the storm sewer back up through their floor drains. My basement is "damp"......... theirs is, well... an unsanitary kiddie pool....

Before you complain about your shoes, look about you. There are folks that would love to have FEET to put your secondhand shoes on.....


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