Barometer Doors

While it's been chilly at night, the days here have been so near gorgeous that it makes no sense to speak of the difference. Bordering on hot with clear skies, although some still complain I can't take them seriously. Sometimes good enough, is.

But I'm told it won't last. Later this week, after my oral surgery, overnight lows in the upper thirties are expected and even more shocking, rain will be falling from the skies during the day. I'm sure those who are predicting it are using computers, satellite photos, and common sense, but my home as built in detectors.

I once had a job that gave me access to the Los Angeles Hyperion Treatment Facility, right near the Pacific Ocean. It's where all the sewage is treated, so it's possibly not that much of a benefit, but one thing there made my trips there worthwhile. They had, perhaps, the world's coolest weather station, and I never learned if it was the set up of some weather club or if they actually needed it to check if it was okay to process the raw sewage. While the expected thermometers and anonometers (or whatever those wind gauge things are) were there, my favorite was the barometer.

The weather station was on the second or third storey and the barometer was an actual tube filled with mercury, my favorite metal. It was the first, and only, time I couldn't doubt all that talk of "inches of mercury." The tube extended down through the landing and I could never see its bottom, but it was set up so that the "normal" levels were right at eye level. Next to it, all official, was a clipboard where the readings were written.

I don't have anything like that here at home, but, as I said, I do have a couple doors that swell and stick when the weather changes. Years ago when I was hit by that car my doctor warned me that my wrist, which had been fractured, might very well "act up" when the weather changes, but he was off a bit since it's my knee that bothers me. What he had no way of knowing is that my bathroom door is a far better indicator.

I have to use my entire might to shut it now, and I'm taking that as a sign of an approaching cold front. Since this is the hardest it's ever been to open or close the door, I'm expecting colder weather than I can recall here in the city. This is snowy mountain temperatures I'm expecting, and by "expecting" you can be assured that I mean "dreading."