Click Here To Learn More About Jinny Anderson
Let's face it, the weather has been freaky. That isn't to say that it has been freaky bad because it hasn't, but there is no denying that this entire winter has been abnormal and unless you're a bear and have been hibernating, dramatically noticeable.
As much as I have enjoyed the freedom from daily shoveling of snow such as we enjoyed last year, and the summer weather in the middle of March, abnormal makes me uncomfortable. If there is anything we can count on in Maine it is the seasons and when they don't conduct themselves in the manner for which they are famous, it is a little nerve wracking. There are always reasons for these kinds of anomalies and although the immediate symptoms may be enjoyable, the ultimate outcome may be less so. Most people don't concern themselves much with this fact and I don't blame them. Living in the present is always a good choice, particularly if the present includes really good weather. Unfortunately, no matter how much I have delighted in the break from winters that make you want to crawl into bed until spring, it still gives me a kind of mild creepy feeling.
I read an article the other day that said that they had bigger snow storms in Italy and New Mexico than we had in Bangor, a phenomenon that caused no end of damage to the Colosseum in Rome, the grape vines in southern Italy, and whatever they've got going in New Mexico. I was recounting the results of winter damage this season to a big chunk of Europe to my son, who suggested that perhaps it was the second sign of the coming apocalypse.
“What was the first sign?” I asked.
“The inexplicable rise to fame of the Kardasian sisters,” he said.
“As completely unfathomable as that may be,” I told him, “there is just something unsettling about the business of weather. While it may start out perfectly lovely and appear to be a delightful gift, who knows what Trojan Horse may be the end result? Its like that Hitchcock movie with the birds, at first it is all like, 'Oh my, look at all those pretty birds flying around in such enormous numbers', and the next thing you know a rabid Chickadee is trying to rip your eyes out of your head.”
“Well,” said Chuck with a shrug, “it is 2012. Maybe nature gave us an easy winter like a condemned man gets a really good last meal. Kind of an act of compassion before the big End of Days thing.”
Yikes. End of Days. I forgot about that. I pointed out to Chuck that the Mayans actually called it, “The end of the 4th age”, which could mean just about anything. It could mean world-wide catastrophe or just a little, barely noticeable hiccup in time. It could just be a kind of cosmic fender-bender.
“On the other hand,” said Chuck, “it might just be the opening act for the next ice age.”
Nice thought. I pointed out that regardless, I felt bad for all the little crocus plants I had seen poking their heads out of the soil. We could still get a massive snow storm and they would all die a tragic and premature death.
Chuck said that he refused to fret about the crocuses. If they live in this climate they had to be pretty tough and should know better anyway.
“Look, Mom,” he said, “I refuse to worry about the kamikaze crocuses, they're on their own. As for this year's wine production in Italy, I'm 17 and it means nothing to me. I don't know why I should get all sentimental about the Colosseum either since it was where the brutal and violent Roman public went to see enslaved men fight to the death, thousands of animals horribly slaughtered, and numerous people executed in the most bloodthirsty way they could think up. Besides, it looks like its falling apart from a combination of time and air pollution anyway. On top of that, if the next ice age is coming, we'll be one of the first places to go and if a big honking glacier is going to plow through this state like a farming combine through a corn field, I'm going to enjoy 84 degree weather in the middle of March with no thought of the Mayans, the birds, or the apocalypse.”
He was right. No point in worrying about Trojan horses or what's inside them. Whatever is supposed to happen at the end of the 4th age, if anything, is going to happen anyway. Best just to live and let live. Or live and let die...whichever comes first.
Would you like to read past issues of That's Life? Click Here