My friend at the Lawrenceville Weather Blog says 2007 is not the driest year on record:
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution today ended its Christmas editorial with a wish that it would just precipitate. 2007 had the possibility of going into the record books as the driest year on record, which is currently held by the year 1931, with 29.14 inches of total rainfall. As of this morning, Atlanta saw 28.69 inches of rain, and today Hartsfield-Jackson airport recorded 58 inches of rain. bringing the total to 29.27 inches. Most of today
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We were so glad to have rain on Christmas!
It was a gift from God.
What did we do for weather records before airports were invented?
GOP: MY god is NOT a cold front colliding with warm gulf air!
Mine has noodley… nevermind, you do not want to know
But Creative Loafing’s Ken Edelstein wrote recently that the drought was one of “biblical” proportions! Surely he wasn’t overstating matters?
(Actually, I’m just kidding. Ken is a super nice guy every time I’ve met him. I’m just tweaking him for suggesting we’ve never see such weather ever before.)
Rick drinks from the beer volcano!
Why does it matter if it is the driest on record? If we’re a quarter of an inch under or over the record, well, that’s a difference of half an inch, which means nothing. This is just another example of our short attention span, top ten list loving method of decision making.
Bah. The only reason were getting so much rain is that its my wedding weekend. 51 other weekends it _could_ rain, and it picks this one.
Bah.
It was a gift from God.
The only reason were getting so much rain is that its my wedding weekend
Just to re-cap and make sure I’ve understand:
God loves us and decided not to go for the record because he hates Chris. Hmm
I bet he loves Chris too and is just trying to keep people from ruining his car’s paint job.
Best wishes to you and your bride.
I AM SINGING IN THE RAIN!
Chris, do you actually evoke the word “Bah” in public?
The flying spaghetti monster doesn’t get upset when you invoke the name of this only meatball “Bah”.
Carpe, God had nothing to do with it. I had an elaborate plan to make sure my car was in a different county from the celebration.
And up until yesterday I’d probably have agreed that God hates me.
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