A: It would take a meteorologist for a definitive answer, but it must have something to do with the sun.

People in England are generally congenial, and quite often make an amusing remark. You walk into a grocery or some other commercial establishment, and the clerk will say, "Isn't the weatha (sic) horrid today?" The English long ago did away with the letter R.

Being polite, you stifle a chuckle, but think to yourself, how about the weatha yesterday, or the ten continuous days of bad weather before that.

England had horrid weather back when the Normans and Saxons were fighting it out, and before Stonehinge was built.

Those of us who call the Bootheel home have an equally amusing statement: Hardly a day goes by that we don't say, "Isn't it windy today." Like it wasn't windy yesterday, or the day before yesterday, or the ten continuous windy days before that.

Let's face it: We have some big time wind in the Bootheel. A two or three day reprieve from this bluster, and we think something has gone haywire in the eco-system.

A few weeks ago a fellow from New Jersey was in Kennett on business and joined a group on the first tee at the golf course. As he approached a shot he turned and asked, "Is it always this windy here?" The locals looked at each other and laughed. The wind was doing about 10 to 15 mph, so mild they had scarcely noticed it when compared to some of the havoc they had recently dealt with.

Remember those youthful days when you would be playing baseball? You would attempt to settle under a fly ball and the wind would push it around like a kite on a string. Hitting a tennis ball in a big wind was like trying to swat a hornet with a peen hammer.

Sometimes on the golf course you will see a flag pole completely blown out of its hole on the green. Or you could see a heavy golf cart rolling merrily along with no driver in sight.

We measure the wind in the Bootheel by the various flags around town. If a flag is just blowing straight out, it means a reasonably calm day. If the flag is wrapping itself around the flag pole, then things may be a little rough that day. It's when the flag is popping and snapping like a bullwhip that you may want to find something to hold on to.

How do we compare to the wind in other parts of the country?

"You want to see some wind?" some fellows say. "Go to Kansas, or West Texas."

This undoubtedly true, but if the wind in that part of the country exceeds ours, then surely they don't try to play outdoor sports there -- or would want to.

Winds that exceed ours would have to be approaching storm conditions. It would be difficult to get outside with someone's roof swirling around your head, or a baby carriage from across town rolling along in your driveway.

It is more logical to assume that other flatlands get about the same kind of wind that we do. We don't live in a valley with mountains to protect us, or hills of an significance, or tall buildings to ward off some of the blast.

If it's a ten-miler, then we get all ten miles of it. It it's gusting 30 - 35, then we struggle for equilibrium and try to avoid standing under tall trees with big limbs.

It is a tad windy in the Bootheel.

But it's home, and it is comforting to know we will never be buried under an avalanche. A tsunami here is out of the question.