Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Our fickle friend, the summer wind.
Summer just won't go away this year. And I disapprove. I disapprove strongly. It's time to be cold, dammit! I want to wear pants! And shoes! Proper shoes that fully encase my feet! Let me put my sandals away already!
I mean, for the love of god, it was eighty degrees last weekend during Apple Fest. Eighty degrees! How can one properly enjoy a fall harvest festival in eighty degree weather? How can I be expected to eat and, more pressingly, enjoy my annual apple bratwurst under those kinds of conditions? I can't go to Apple Fest without a jacket. It's just wrong.
Between the heat, knowing it was the festival's 50th anniversary, and suspecting the sheer amount of insanity that would inspire amongst residents of the Twin Cities desperate to escape suburbia for a day "up north," I opted to skip this year -- and I'm glad I did. My relatives that went wound up driving around looking for a parking space in Bayfield for an hour, and even up at the orchards they had to park in the back eighty acres and stand in line for an hour for a bag of (overpriced) apples. They never even found a place to park in Bayfield -- they just gave up and went home. My internal rage system surely would've overheated and I fear the casualty count would've been high.
Normally, by my brother Dewey's birthday in mid-September, the leaves in the front yard have turned and are at their peak. This year's been different.
Yep, that's right: we had less than a week to enjoy the leaves before a big-ass wind blew up on the 6th and wrecked everything.
Sadly, the big maple next to the garage is getting cut down in the not-too-distant future -- there are some concerns about its health and it falling on the garage if/when it goes. We've had a lot of trees cut down this year, but I think this one'll make us the saddest -- it's so close to the house, and often the prettiest one in the yard each autumn. I wish we'd had a chance to enjoy its autumnal splendor for a bit longer.
Stupid wind. Stupid summer. Bring on the $%#&*! snow!