Snowished

Here, in our dusty little corner of the world, we have been experiencing a long stretch of “I might need sunblock” weather at a time of the year when the normal is “I’m gonna kill the next weatherman who says snow.”  We have been hitting the fifties and sometimes sixties during the day.  Our nightly lows here in the valley are often not below freezing.  This, when our historical averages for temperature set the lows in the upper teens and highs just shy of forty.

Last night in snowished.

When I opened my door this morning to let out twenty pounds of housecat, I saw about a quarter-inch of the stuff on my deck.  I went out and poked at it.  Not actual snow.  Something a bit mushier and not all that cold.  Incompetent snow.  Snowish, but not quite there.

My cat—normally finding snow abhorrent—pranced right out there and happily tracked the hell out of things.  “Nice try, weather,” I muttered.   I stepped back inside to brew some coffee and look to for sunblock.

--Mitchell Hegman