Almost readyFriday morning bloomed overcast, drizzly and chilly, though by late morning the sun shone brightly and things warmed up a bit. The historical society I work for had scheduled their fifth annual Ghost Walk around town for that evening, and it looked as if the night would be perfect for it, the first time in the five years we've been holding the event.
Alas, it was not to be. By late afternoon, the clouds moved in again and the drizzle with it. However, the drizzle was light enough that the hardy souls who'd signed up for the walk got to go ghost walking. I stayed home, indulging in pots of hot tea and snickerdoodles. I noticed the weather forecast called for the possibility of snow overnight, but since this is only the end of October, I didn't think much would come of it. If we did get any snow, it wouldn't stick; too early for that, of course.
So, here it is Sunday noon and the heavy wet stuff is still here. Large clumps of it are falling off the trees, hitting the roof of the house and sounding like big dogs falling from the sky. The sound of snow shovels scraping against sidewalks can be heard up and down the street. This stuff is too heavy for snow blowers - more like shaved ice than snow, really. As soon as I finish this post, I'll join my neighbors in the ritual that usually doesn't start until after Thanksgiving.
There is a bit of ancient weather folklore around these parts that the date of the first snowfall dictates how many snowstorms there will be in the upcoming winter season. Wonderful. We're in for 29 storms before the fifth of May, then.
The fifth of May is when most local farmers consider winter has ended; traditionally, that's when the danger of frost has passed. We haven't even had our first frost of the season, yet we have snow. The persimmons in the front yard haven't finished ripening, but we have snow. There are still leaves on the trees, for heaven's sake, so what's with this snow?
(Sorry. Shoveling snow, even hearing shovels scraping on sidewalks, makes me feel crotchety.)
14 comments:
Don't blame you, snow before Halloween, well really!
Weather keeps it's own schedule. And it's secret.
Shovel carefully.
Exactly right, Lucy! I mean, what is this world coming to, anyway? Grump-grump!
Hello, Z! Couldn't agree more with it being secretive - and unpredictable.
By the time I piddled around getting snow shoveling clothes on, most of it had disappeared from my walks. There are now small streams of melted snow flowing in the gutters, small leaves swirling down the stream like rudderless boats in a linear maelstrom. I should make a paper boat and go play!
Snow, huh? Weird, 'cause it's going to be 82f here tomorrow...oh yeah, I'm in LA...almost forgot. I paid the 11 year old boy across the street to shovel the walk while I'm gone.
Cheers!
Mike
Mike, you just had to rub that in, didn't you? (Almost forgot, my foot!)
For as heavy as the snow was, it all but disappeared by this afternoon. By mid-week, we're supposed to have warmer weather; up to the mid-50s, I think. Almost a heat wave!
I have yet to find a snow shovel that fits my hands. Just sayin'. Besides, it'll melt one day. Maybe.
Obviously, I went shopping in the wrong store for mine, or they saw me coming and put out only the Martha sized ones!
What I really need in winter is a yard-size electric blanket.
Weird weather in the world these days. It's November and our trees are still leafed out in green (a few yellows too).
I don't fancy shoveling snow. I'm with Jim. It will melt someday. And yours seems to have melted fast!
Hello, Anne:
Most of the fall colored leaves dropped with the snow-ice; the green ones are still hanging, looking very dejected though.
Jim was right. By the time I quit belly-aching about the snow and went out to shovel it, there was only slush left and I swept it away with a broom.
I'm trying to work out whether the locution "the forecast called for..." is an American invention. As if those Bill Murrays were demanding this that and the other. I guess one of the splinters on Mitt Romney's electoral plank will be that Republicans will not only insist on weather but on good weather.
Stayed in, did you, comforted by tea and snickerdoodles (capital letter here, hey?) At last a kindred spirit. No nonsense about finding it necessary to contrive a dish out of the guts of a pumpkin. I fear Halloween leaves me as a sourpuss. I don't find the pumpkin at all edible nor do I like the smell when a candle chars its innards. But I did enjoy, all those years ago, taking my two witches OS and PB to knock on doors, and see those doors open to reveal smiling welcoming faces. Tell me those kind of people still exist - puh-lease.
Hello, BB:
The expression, "forecast called for," might be an American idiom. I suppose the "called for" could be seen as redundant in some circles, but it depends, I think, on whether one treats the word forecast as a noun or as a verb. I was treating it as a noun, so that the entity, Forecast, was calling for (predicting) such and such weather, in which case 'called for' is not redundant - at least to my way of thinking. (Don't go there, friend!)
Had I considered 'forecast' a verb, then 'called for' would not only be redundant, it would be silly. I would have been saying the 'prediction predicted,' and even I can see the folly in that.
Snickerdoodles are probably my favorite cookie/biscuit of all time, and the best beverage (other than milk, while they're still warm from the oven) to have with them is tea, which compliments their delicate, buttery, spicy goodness.
Did you not have/enjoy pumpkin pie while here in the States, BB? The pumpkins destined to be jack-o'-lanterns are, indeed, watery and fibrous, and I don't like scraping pumpkin guts, either. However, the pumpkins (or maybe they are pumpkin-shaped squashes?) grown for making pies are meatier, less watery, although they, too, have sticky guts. But, oh, those pies!
Yes, there are still millions of us friendly-faced adults who love seeing all the little goblins at our doors on Beggars Night. I'm glad you took your daughters out trick-or-treating while you were here.
Our first snow was on November 2. YAY!
Maria:
The other part of that saying is that the more snows you have, the lighter they will be. I guess that means you're in for a couple of doozies!
;-)
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