So this has to mean something, right?
Snow…in October…before Halloween?
What is this...Lake Wobegon?
I haven’t seen snow in October since I was a wee innocent student up in Syracuse. It was bad enough that I was forced to don my winter coat by Columbus Day, but my freshman year it snowed around October 15. At first I thought I was hallucinating, due to the mind altering fumes that emanated from my roommates clothes. But no…it was the real thing.
Snow in October.
I was so depressed at the thought that I wasn’t going to see grass again, the green kind you walk on, until May…if then.
Of course the next day it was 60 degrees and it all melted. So I was relieved. Fooled again by the fickle forecasts of Central New York.
But I can never remember snow down in lower Westchester in October.
November, maybe…December, most definitely; even as late as April.
But never October.
And now, here it is.
On top of everything today was lawn mowing day, and since I’m very rigid in my lawn care I had to stick to schedule.
Snow shooting through the lawnmower is an interesting experience. Maybe I should have shoveled first.
So I thought I’d better write up a special retort to addresses the situation. The only previous special retort was back on June 18th to report the first firefly sighting of the year. And now I’m reporting the first fire sighting of the year…in my fire place.
Other than a rather large tree branch that Z and I had to drag out of the street with the help of our next door neighbor, who is not a ghoul of any sort—although he is a lawyer—there was not a lot of excitement…luckily...knock wood..
The first snow fall was of the heavy glop variety and was sticking to the limbs of my huge silver maple like weighted marshmallow fluff. So it was a little disconcerting to see all the limbs drooping precariously, especially the one over my power line.
As Z and I were putting the finishing touches on the clean up a loud crack sounded from above. We both looked up expecting to see a huge branch plummeting towards us. Naturally, I screamed like a woman…”We’re going to die!” as Z pushed us both out of the way, or mostly me, back up on the sidewalk where we watched a tiny little branch float harmlessly to the ground.
In the end nothing substantial fell, but it could have…and I was ready.
Just not as much as Z.
Luckily the wet snow abated, somewhat, and the limbs began to straighten back up. Except for Sponge Bob, which is what we call a large 7 foot bush by our front door, because he resembles the little crustacean…and because we are odd.
So now we are sitting by the fire, warm and snug awaiting the baked manicotti that Z prepared as our first stick to the ribs storm dinner of the year. And despite, or perhaps because of, my half Italian heritage, I pronounce it just like it’s spelled, Man-a-cotti…and not like a real Italian who pronounces it Mana…and something that sounds like they are choking on phlegm.
So all in all it was a rather nothing storm…except I heard they ran out of ketchup or catsup, at CVS. It’s probably the Zombies. They like to entertain a lot this time of year and nothing goes with human flesh like Ketchup…or catsup.
Snow on the pumpkin…