Just When They Thought It Was Safe To Bloom...

Merry Easter, everyone. Greetings from the freakishly Frozen North, where the temperature dropped 50 degrees in 24 hours last Wednesday and hasn't climbed out of the 20's since. The calendar may say it's April, but it looks a lot more like January out there. We're under a lake-effect snow warning. We tried to drive out to go dancing tonight, only to turn around because of blizzard-like conditions and the scariness of sliding around while going only 25 mph on the freeway. Three more inches have fallen just in the 2 hours since we got back.

I think we've entered a wormhole in the time-space continuum and emerged somewhere in the thick of winter. Eight inches of snow on the ground and more falling every hour--check. Wearing sweaters, down parka and waterproof boots to go outside and the formation of snotcicles when walking for more than 5 minutes--check. A nasty gust of wind that snapped our front storm door open so violently that it yanked several screws out of the wood on the door jamb--check.

But taking a closer look, something's not quite right. Our mostly bare magnolia tree is sporting shriveled blackened husks that were fragrant blossoms only 4 days ago. Shrubs that were bursting with tender baby leaves or yellow blossoms are now freeze-dried. Daffodils that were popping open like popcorn at the end of March are now bowed down all the way to the ground in defeat. The cherry, apple and peach blossoms were just starting (a good two weeks early) and are now ruined for the year.

Easter is supposed to be a time of resurrection of new life and new hope, but I'm just not feelin' it this year. It feels like we're Charlie Brown and Mother Nature is Lucy holding the football. When it hit 79 degrees on Tuesday, I considered risking taking my down parka to the drycleaners, and then she swoops in, cackling evilly, "Haha, you thought it was spring! Suckers!"