I guess technically, it's possible. But as I was watching the news this morning getting ready to come to work, I was met by this graphic (above...station/network shall remain nameless, but good sleuths can probably figure it out).

It got me thinking: "We're just 10 (9?) years into the century and we're already spending our 'Storm of the Century' card? What will we call the raging snowstorm that hits the East Coast in 2023? Or 2036? Is anyone really keeping track of this stuff? Isn't this like calling the movie that came out on January 2nd, 'the year's best film!'?"

Anyway, for me and most weather forecasters, the "Storm of the Century" refers to the big East Coast snowstorm of 1993. Apparently in the 20th Century, we had saved up our "Storm of the Century" moniker until closer to the end, then figured we better use it or lest the century go with just 100 years of unnamed storms.

But the storm was worthy of the name, what with snow spread from Canada to northern Florida -- as much as 4" in the Florida panhandle and 6-8" across the south. It also brought deadly tornadoes and incredible winds to Florida and Cuba -- with straight-line gusts as high as 100 mph.

This storm seems like it'll be smaller in scale -- compare the satellite image here of the storm of 1993 with the forecast model for this storm:

But unlike this year where the days leading up to the record were top stories on newscasts, that record got hardly any attention at all in 2006. In fact, I can't find one article about it in our weather story archives.

Why? Read more »

Hey Seattle, feel like breaking a record low around this time of year? Good luck with that, what with 1950 hogging all the records for itself.

Feb. 3 marks the day that our record low temperatures are back up for grabs, in a sense, as it's the day the winter of 1950 finally ended its long reign in smashing the records so badly, that it's possible they will stand untouched for dozens of years.

The 33-day period between Jan. 2 and Feb. 3 had four incredible arctic blasts that crippled the city with several inches of snow and days upon days of bone-chilling temperatures that dropped to single digits overnight.

In fact, 18 of the 33 low temperature records from that time are from 1950 --12 of them in single digits, including the Holy Grail of our cold records, the 0 degree reading on Jan. 31. That stands as the coldest day ever recorded at any official Seattle reading, be it Sea-Tac Airport or the Downtown Federal Building, which kept records from 1891 through 1972.

Officially back from baby leave today so catching up a bit on all the weather happenings aside from the January warmth record which if you haven't heard by now, let us know how you've furnished your cave.

So, let's see since I've been gone... apparently nothing exciting has happened. (I guess from a selfish standpoint, Mother Nature picked a good time to be boring, but we only get a few months of weather excitement a year and hate to miss out on what's usually a fun January). I see we had a few minor wind events in the city and a decent coastal wind storm, and that weird low pressure system that stuck off the Pacific coast for several days, shattering low pressure records in California, but snow has been tough to find in the mountains, much less anywhere near Puget Sound.

But there was one neat little show over the Olympics late last week. Dr. Dale Ireland in Silverdale captured a full day of lenticular "standing wave" clouds over the mountains. Lenticular clouds are somewhat common around here -- most famously over Mt. Rainier, but seen over other mountain tops and ridges.

Monday update: With a high of 49 and a low of 45 Sunday, we have clinched the record. Right now, the average temperature for January stands at 46.97 degrees, well above the record of 46.56.

Olympic athletes can surely sympathize with January, 2006.

Many athletes can run/swim/jump/skate the event of their lives and earn a World Record, only to see that record erased a short time later by someone else -- sometimes even in the same event.

Meanwhile, when 2006 toppled the record for warmest January ever in Seattle, it had to feel it'd hold the perch for a while.  Heck, some records in Seattle have lived for over 50 years.

But no, it appears it will hold the top perch for all of four years.  At midnight Monday morning, we will crown a new champion in 2010 for warmest January ever (as far as average overall temperature goes.)

It's a mere formality now, unless some massive unseen arctic blast suddenly materializes and races into the area from thousands of miles away, which has about the same odds as winning the lottery while only choosing negative numbers.

I'll be honest. I have really, really enjoyed the weather this month. The entire morning show team takes a "coffee walk" at 7:30 a.m., and I think I've worn a jacket maybe five times since Christmas.

My 2-year-old son has kicked a soccer ball more outside than inside, and my power bill (I hope) will be a shadow of what it was in December.

But not everybody's thrilled with our warm El Nino winter, and here's the reason why: Winter is absolutely not over yet.

First the Old Man, now the Big Wind.

New Hampshire's Mount Washington has lost its distinction as the site of the fastest wind gust ever recorded on Earth, officials at the Mount Washington Observatory said Tuesday.

I am writing this as I finish my time in Atlanta, Georgia, the host city of this year's American Meteorological Society (AMS) annual meeting.

I have attended several of these meetings over the years, and noticed a few things that were markedly different about the 2010 version.

The number-one difference: Climate change has become an industry of its own. In the world of meteorology, it's big. Huge.

Those of you with those old-school barometers with the dial and the helpful forecasting labels such as "Nice" and "Fair" and "Rain" are probably ready to toss it in the trash and join the 21st Century by going digital. I mean, the dial's been stuck pointing to "Stormy" for three days now, and the weather outside has been nicer than several typical June days we see.

But no, the old school barometer is correct. The atmospheric pressure is quite low, and has been so for several days now -- all along the West Coast.

For Southern California, it's meant torrential storms.  Here, it's meant sunshine and highs near 60.   That sounds crazy, and it is, in a way. And it's making for a whole host of strange weather oddities, including most of the Southwest shattering records for all-time record low pressure readings.

The pattern was set up as so: Deep, intense areas of low pressure have been swinging around a main area of low pressure in the Eastern Pacific Ocean. But the upper air flow has carried them far enough offshore that we in the Northwest aren't getting much of the storminess (some showers). 

Instead, those lows are drawing air from Eastern Washington, where it warms as it sinks down the Cascade Mountains. (If that sounds like something we talk about in summer with heat waves, you'd be right, only those are typically caused by heat lows, not regular "stormy" lows). Anyway, that has sent temperatures near 60 and is just another set up that is sending Seattle toward its warmest January ever, (or at the very least, in the top 3.)