No, it's not thieves nor animals nor river rats from down the street nor drunken neighbors nor a train derailment. It's not even the church-goers who park willy-nilly all over my street and block people's driveways. It's not a plague nor locusts nor Hitchcock's birds.
Nope. Those would be mild in comparison.
Sunday morning I wake up, open the shades, look out to the driveway and see ... I see ... damnation, it hurts to say it ... I ... see ....
Yeah, yeah, I know; I'm the one who says winter can still smack us around until late April, but truly, I am not expecting this. My brain has already shifted to summer mode, so any mention of snow at this point just refuses to register. I suppose the weather people may have mentioned snow showers for today, but after our most recent "Blizzard Not a Blizzard" rain storm, I kind of just stopped paying attention.
Anyway, it's not a total disaster. It's a mere dusting, and, despite the icy temperatures, the sun has already started its intense seasonal shift. By the time I have to move my car, there's nothing left. Sneak attack ... followed by sneak disappearance.
I suppose this can be my Passover-Easter anecdote: Flakes finally told to get out of the area, the skies part, and they make their mass exodus. The flakes rise instead of fall, and people roll the rocks away from their front doors and look to the sun.
Too sacrilegious? Oh well. I've never been known for my tact, and I'm not overly fond of the icy reception this morning. I guess that puts me and the "people upstairs" on equal but unlikely footing ... icy footing ... but footing, just the same.
