An imprecation is a curse. Plain and simple, and today I imprecate snow. Those innocent white flakes are so lovely to watch drifting down in the garden. And then I step onto the deck, and the avalanche starts as the pile on the roof lets go because the vibrations from the door set it off. Therefore I do lustily and loudly imprecate. Gotta love New England weather.
I feel more than a bit hapless as I try to remove the five pounds or so that have gone down the back of my shirt. Of course, I should have suspected that our wonderful New England climate would pull the stops out this close to the end of winter/beginning of spring. I guess 18 inches is an excellent way to say, “gotcha!”
Despite being a New York City boy, I’ve lived in New England for over fifty years. So I should now have some insight into how tricky things can be. I guess that old saying is true: hope for the best, expect the worst…now if the damned snow blower will only work…
It looks so pretty but this is why I could never go back to Jersey. I do cuss out the Florida heat, though!
It was wet and heavy. The snow blower did turn out to be cranky. Spring (ha ha ha) in another week. The cat is sensibly sleeping through it after one long look outside. The dog is bounding around in it, and thereby confirming the cat’s opinion that there is something very wrong with that pup.
You doubted Ziva? 😼
Xenia not Ziva! Please do not tell the Queen of the royal blunder in names! 🙀
Mere servants, like us, she normally forgives…but always remembers…
So glad this storm is behind us, and indeed, it must be worse to be a cat in a New England snow!