Friday
February 8,
2013
6:00 AM – Good news. No sign of
snow. Z leaves for work early hoping to park inside to avoid removal of snow
accumulation before the evening commute.
Not sure how she gets away with it. I would think parking inside a
hospital would be frowned upon. I wish her God speed and eat my first jelly
donut.
7:00 AM – Bad news. First sign of
snow gathers on the front lawn. No
actual snow, just the Zombies across the street, who become annoyed at just the mention of snow, mostly
because they have a hard enough time shuffling around on dry pavement, let alone snow. Not sure
why they always gather on my lawn, though. I guess they think I can make it go
away, mostly because I fixed their cable once. I wish them God speed and eat my
fourth and fifth jelly donut.
8:00 AM – Good news. The Zombies
finally went home after I agreed to let them have all the Boston Creams.
Zombies love Boston Creams. Good thing.
The first real sign of accumulating snow appears. Again, not actual snow…just the
stupid sign my “Harbinger of Doom”
neighbor, Fred, breaks out whenever they predict more than 4 inches. Fred has
signs for most cataclysmic events. Armageddon, the Rapture, the old Mayan
Calendar, the New Mayan Calendar, the Super Bowl Halftime show. I wish him God
speed and wish I had saved a Boston Cream for myself.
9:00 AM – Bad news. One half inch
of actual snow has accumulated. Fred has already baled but left the sign behind
in my driveway. The Zombies have already
shoveled their walk…twice. They’re in unusually good spirits for an impending
blizzard. Apparently, they made an agreement with the new family down the
block—the Donner’s—to eat each other’s dead, if it should come to that. Zombies...what else is new?
10:00 AM – More bad news. We’re already out of Mallomars.
11:00 AM – Temperature hovers
near Freezing. This annoys Freezing to no end, who tells Temperature to get a
life and stop getting sticky chocolate finger prints on her iPad. I slip out of
the room undetected and wash my hands.
12 Noon – I retreat to the garage
and start the back-up generator to ensure a quick emergency power transition,
should it come to that. I also start the lawn mower and leaf blower, just
because I’m odd. I miss those guys.
12:30 PM - Due to confusion
precipitated by carbon monoxide fumes accumulating in the garage, I gather up
two loads of firewood and carry them into the house next door, where the two
cute witches live. They thank me and say
they can use it to keep their caldron going at full boil. They express their
appreciation by saying they would love to have me for lunch. I decline…but wish them God speed and ask if
they happen to have any Mallomars. They do not.
1:00 PM – Bad news. The snow
continues to accumulate. At least an inch and a half on the ground now. A cold shiver of dread creeps across my spine
as the neighbor’s cat creeps across my porch. I suddenly remember, I never had
lunch. I decide on tuna.
2:00 PM – Snow begins to
intensify. I warily record nearly 2
inches of accumulation at this hour. There may be at least another 2 inches,
but I decide to wait until another
hour to record those, when I’m not so wary or feeling woe. Possible sugar crash
at work—not sure why.
3:00 PM – Return to the garage to
gather more firewood but discover the Vampires from up the block have taken whatever
was left. They heard from the witches that I was giving away free wood. I
merely smile since Vampires don’t like to be crossed. They tell me they’re
making steaks and need the wood to make a fire.
I tell them steaks seem like an odd choice for Vampires and they should
be careful not to get burned. They just stare at me with those blank vampire
expressions that I hate. The Vampires never get my subtle humor.
4:00 PM - Good news. Z arrives home early from work after
driving 20 miles in treacherous conditions. Bad news. She immediately runs over
Fred’s sign, which I forgot to remove from the driveway. Z curses and chants
something in tongue, which causes the Zombies across the street, still
obsessively shoveling their walk, to drop their shovels and run inside, or what
passes as running for a Zombie. I take
a nap.
8:00 PM –. After waking, I find the storm has intensified. Actual
accumulation and blowing wind is apparent.
I judge about 4 inches. The rest I let slide with just casual
observation as I sense those inches are much more sensitive to criticism than the
original 4. Z has apparently brokered a deal with the vampires to return some
of the firewood. Not sure what the exact terms are but I’m concerned it
involves my washing caskets for the next year again
10:00 PM – Bad News. Slept though almost all of CSI: NY.
11:00 PM – Five Zombie s across the street knock on my door
and ask if I want my front walk shoveld. Actually, only two make it to the door.
The other three are stuck in a drift by the curb. I thank them but decline. Never allow a Zombie
to shovel your walk. They'll never let you forget it.
12 Midnight – Snow falling horizontally. The Zombies stuck by
the curb are no longer visible. Decide to call it a night. Leave note to myself
not to disturb the Zombies buried by the curb in the morning. Zombies like to
sleep in.
1:00 AM – Wake Z to remind her she is free to consume my
body should I not survive the storm. She grunts, and reminds me that she’s eliminated
fatty meals from her diet and that I never listen. I wonder if the donut shop will be open in
the morning.
Saturday, February 9, 2013
6:00 AM – I awaken to a glorious snow covered expanse. Unfortutnarely the exanse is in the bathroom as I forgtot to close the window. Good
news…we have survived the storm and the Zombies across the street have already shoveled
out my driveway. Bad news...it appears they’ve eaten their dead…or undead…plus they’ll
expect me to pay them for shoveling. Just
another day in the neighborhood…except there’s no jelly donuts.
TweetFollow @FreelanceRetort
What did Fred's sign say?
ReplyDeleteSay 'No' to Snow! It will be more apparent in the movie version.....
DeleteI can't wait. What music will you choose?
ReplyDeleteAnother matter: I wrote to Terry about the neighbor who parked his truck in my driveway OVERNIGHT. Oy Oy. My reputation is made. Amazing what 86 year olds are capable of doing! Yeah!
Hey don't hold back, now. Retorters need to know, too. Does it have anything to do with your dubious background?
DeleteBut don't incriminate yourself....
ReplyDeleteWell, I signed a lot of papers, so anything I do might incriminate me. If I get shot at dawn, should I have that last cigarette? I'd take the blindfold, but I'm not sure about the cigarette. Dangerous to my health. On the other hand, it sure would be nice if they'd offer a Martini to go along with it.
ReplyDeleteThe only thing different that I said to Terry was HOT ZIGGETY!
ReplyDelete