Imagination is everything . . . (Albert Einstein)
The first snowflakes of the winter are forecast for today, and there’s always a small bubble of excitement as a result. I wonder why; my husband certainly doesn’t share it, as he gloomily gazes out at our half mile lane that connects to the main road, imagining cold mornings cranking up the tractor to plow, I guess. Our little hollow in Appalachia is in the midst of a pretty severe drought, so the moisture will be welcome, I say virtuously. Naturally that goes over well.
I always secretly hope that the smug forecasters will miss it, and we’ll have a “big ‘un,” like back in ‘79, when in early October we got THREE FEET (snow always necessitates at least a slight exaggeration), when only rain was forecast. My (other) husband and I were taking a gap year that year, and we were without power for SIX weeks in the small mountain cabin in which we were staying. Wow! And then there was the blizzard of ‘93, when we got stuck en route on an interstate in Birmingham for THREE nights ( they don’t plow “too good” in Birmingham) . . .
But enough. We will, in all probability, have a few lazy flakes. But — always . . . the possibility . . .
