Friday, October 22, 2010

Not Exactly Vivaldi

The calendar says it's autumn in New England, and the leaf peepers are out on weekends trying to catch that blaze of color across the countryside's woodlands that signals the beginning of the end of this year's cycle of the seasons and warms the hearts of lift operators, bed and breakfast owners and snow plow drivers everywhere in the Northeast-I'm just hoping we're not there yet.

Yesterday we had just about all the different kinds of weather within forty-five minutes in the middle of the afternoon that you can have without the use of prescription drugs (I'm told). And put the Cialis down, Casanova; the Titanic may sail at dawn but you're not gonna be sitting in one of the hot tubs, so ride easy.

After a mostly cloudy and punky day (I hate to be critical since I'm certainly not very good at creating days, or nights for that matter, but it was pretty crappy outside) the skies darkened almost beyond belief and then a hard rain fell on the just and the unjust, as well as those just being there. I heard later that Montville, a town not to far from the bridge over which I was driving, had a hail storm (how large were they, you ask; the Letterman clip is NOT available so do your own bit) but, thankfully, no injuries were reported.

As suddenly as the end of the world had started, it stopped and the clouds parted and the sun came out until about a half hour later when it happened all over again. I'd wonder if God had Alzheimer's and ADD, but if s/he didn't and does really exist, when I stand before the Throne of Judgement, I'll hear ALL about the beginning of this sentence. I'm going to be in enough trouble already so let's pretend you wondered about it instead, okay?

After the second round, it warmed up and became a quite nice, albeit very short, afternoon but I could see the lingering clouds as evening reached out to embrace us. I don't mind a biblical visitation of the plagues, if it's absolutely unavoidable, but I'm hoping we start with the frogs. After all, they're supposed to taste like chicken, right?
-bill kenny

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