Ding dong the ridge is dead

For those who don't know (which is probably most of the world), the massive dry spell California has been suffering since December was being caused by a high-pressure ridge off the coast of Alaska.  It was diverting the Jetstream north a bit, which then hooked down almost across the rockies and created the "polar vortex" effect that the Midwest and Eastern US has been enduring (and which seems to be also causing massive flooding in the UK).

This high-pressure ridge was there for so long without moving or dissipating that it became half-jokingly known as "the ridiculously resilient ridge".

Now, blue skies and 80-degree temps in January are nice to a point, but you have to realize that Central California is one of the major food production areas in the country (and in some areas in the world): less than 1% of the nation's land by area creates over 8% of the produce in the country.

This ridge, by forcing the Jetstream to skip California, has been endangering the US food supply in a massive way.

Until last weekend, when it finally broke apart.  SoCal has only gotten a few showers, but there is now flooding in parts of the state north of San Francisco, and hopefully the snow pack on the mountains will begin to build up.

The ironic part is that the driest January in California history is likely about to head into an El Nino wet season.  Bring on the rain!

I'm heading to Tampa for a conference next week.  I'm not necessarily looking forward to it - I'm spending the entire time hanging out in a hall at a booth, mostly by myself - but it'll be something different at least.

During the dry spell, I noticed a few hummingbirds coming up and poking at the little white flowers on my basil plants.  This seemed kind of desperate to me, so I bought a shepherd's hook and a hummingbird feeder and kind of nestled it in the middle of the basil.  Since then, I've had at least three hummingbirds come by regularly - including one who likes to "stand guard" and chase others away except for the one female that I think is his mate.

They're actually pretty comfortable with me.  I was out watering my plants earlier - including the planter where the feeder sits - and they'd buzz up, "zot" at me a bit (this kind actually makes noise, kind of like an electric click), and then start drinking out of the feeder.  I can even move around the patio slowly and they don't get jumpy.  I think I'll call the guard "Henry"; as I was heading outside to water, I just randomly thought, "I hope Henry doesn't get too mad at me," so I guess that's his name now.