Story 510: And the Rains Came

“I love autumn!”

“You do?”

“Oh yes: the colorful leaves, the crisp cool weather, the mums and pumpkins all out on cheerful display – ”

“HA!”

“…I fail to perceive the cause for that outburst.”

“Where have you been the past 20 years?!  We don’t get autumn anymore!”

“We don’t?”

“No!  We get Summer 2.0 and then the Rainy Season, often interchangeably, up to and including winter.”

“But we still get all the stuff I mentioned.”

“Barely!  The leaves don’t noticeably change until November; the weather skips crisp-cool and instead does blazing-freezing; we’re lucky the mums make it to September and the actual start of autumn before they burn up; and the pumpkins are regularly imported due to the rot from the constant rain, rain, rain!”

“Rain’s not all that bad; it’s not as if we have to deal with monsoons every year like some places.”

“You’re right, it isn’t all that bad: the times when it stops once a week and you don’t have to swim to get out of the house, it’s just fine!”

“Well, we’re lucky our area didn’t get hit with the hurricanes this year.”

“That we are; not so lucky are all the other places that did get hit, multiple times.”

“What about the areas suffering from drought and wildfires?”

“All the more reason that it’s so awful we get excess when those places are the ones that need at least their share!”

“I guess.  Still, I like all the decorations that are out for Halloween and autumn in general, those are always fun.”

“When they’re not being swept away down the rising river that used to be the street, sure.”

“All right, so the autumn I’m visualizing is more of the autumn we used to get before the Earth started taking revenge on us; I’ll still enjoy what’s out there, in-between the raindrops.”

“That’s a great attitude, considering the heavens just opened up again for Round 300 and last I heard this downpour won’t end until later in the month at the earliest.”

“Well, it could always be worse.”

“How so?”

“Could be snow.”

Story 486: Easter Blizzard

Relative 1: (On the phone) You know it’s supposed to snow on Easter Sunday, right?  Really badly.

Host: (On the phone) I did hear that vile rumor, and I refuse to lend it any credence: unlike the rest of the world, including the Equator, our area’s had zippo snow this winter, and I absolutely reject buying into the circulating gossip that our one and only blizzard this go-round will arrive post-post-season in the middle of April!

Relative 1: Well, believe it or not; either way, nobody’s showing up at your house for dinner that day.

Host: I’ve got 15 pounds of ham here!  And all that charcuterie!

Relative 1: Maybe save it for Mother’s Day?

Host: You’re no help.

 EASTER SUNDAY

(Host wakes up suddenly, jumps out of bed, runs to the window, throws back the curtains, and takes in the winter wonderland continuously buried by sideways snowfall)

Host: Holy heavens – how is he supposed to rise in this?!

(Some time later, Host is awkwardly shoveling the driveway in a losing battle when the cell phone rings.  Flinging the shovel away and using teeth to tear off a glove, Host unzips several layers of coats to take the phone out of an inner pocket)

Host: (Screaming against the ice-ridden wind) HELLO?!

Relative 1: (Relaxing on an armchair with feet propped up on a cushioned stool in front of a roaring fire, and sipping hot tea) Don’t tell me you’re actually shoveling out your driveway for nonexistent guests.

Host: NOT EVERYONE CANCELLED!

Relative 1: Yeah, bet they’re the same ones who didn’t bother to tell you they were coming in the first place, either.

Host: …IT WAS ASSUMED THEY WERE!

Relative 1: Wait until the snow’s over to shovel it all out; just go back inside and enjoy your ham, `cause I know you cooked it anyway.

Host: IT WAS ALREADY DEFROSTING!

Relative 1: I hear ya.  Whelp, Happy Easter to you – don’t throw out your back.

Host: HAPPY EASTER TO YOU – (The wind almost blows the phone away; Host scrambles to get it back) TOOOOOO!!!!!

Relative 1: (As both end the call) Poor sap.  (Takes a nap)

(After finally realizing that the snow being shoveled is replaced immediately, Host re-enters the house, throws the coats, boots, gloves, and hats into the laundry room, slams the door, and enters the kitchen to check on the ham)

Host: (Opens the oven door) Roast, my lovely, roast.  (Hears the cell phone ringing inside the laundry room) Shoot.  (Slams shut the oven door and flings open the laundry room door to paw through the coats until the phone is found and answered) Hello?

Relative 2: Hey, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but the fam and I aren’t going to make it there today.

Host: I figured.

Relative 2: Yeah, just can’t get going today for some reason.  Sorry also for calling so last-minute – everybody else is already there by now, I bet.

Host: (As the house shudders with a giant blast of wind) No, not really.

Relative 2: Ah, well, you always get a few cancellations at these get-togethers, that’s how it goes.  Happy Easter anyway, and Happy Spring!  (Ends the call)

Host: (Stares at the silent phone) Was that one calling from the Sun?!

(Later that afternoon, after ham dinner-for-one, Host lies on the couch while watching the wintry outdoors; the snowdrifts are now climbing up the windows)

Host: (Unwraps a chocolate bunny and bites off the head) My poor pansies.  (CHOMP) Poor birds.  (CHOMP)  Poor trees, poor grass, poor flowers, poor spring babies.  (CHOMP)  Poor ham, poor appetizers, poor desserts.  (Finishes the bunny and smacks lips in satisfaction) Ahhhh… at least one thing went right today.  (Looks again out the window, which is nearly a wall of white) Well, guess we’ll just have to look forward to a summer of 100°F for months on end to make up for this.

Story 460: Extending Summer Forever

(On a park trail)

Friend 1: I’m mad.

Friend 2: Oh dear, what now?

Friend 1: Whaddya mean, “What now?”  I don’t complain a lot.

Friend 2: Ha!

Friend 1: OK, you got me – I complain all the time.

Friend 2: That you do.  So: what now?

Friend 1: (Sighs and gestures at the beauty of nature around them) This.  (Gestures at the two of them) I mean, look at us!

Friend 2: (Looks down without breaking stride) Has something happened that I’m not aware of?

Friend 1: Apparently – we’re wearing long sleeves and long pants, and I can’t stand it!

Friend 2: …Whyyyyy???

Friend 1: Because only two weeks ago we were wearing short sleeves and short pants!  And complaining how hot it was and that we were out here melting!

Friend 2: You certainly were.

Friend 1: That’s beside the point: just because our made-up calendar no longer states “August,” Nature gets it into her head to flip a switch and shut down production!

Friend 2: Other way around, you know: the calendar was made up to reflect the flipping switches of Nature.

Friend 1: Still – two weeks!  And we suddenly have to bundle up in our woolies and watch in helpless horror as all these glorious leaves wither up in beautiful colors and collectively leap to their demise!

Friend 2: (Looks around) Been taking longer and longer to do that each year lately, you notice that?

Friend 1: That’s an unrelated catastrophe; my rant involves the fact that it took forever for us to get to summer, and now, oh well, inexorable march of time marches on, here’s fall all y’all, like it or lump it, and I’m sick of lumping it!

Friend 2: You could always just like it.

Friend 1: Bah!

Friend 2: OK.

Friend 1: I still want to go to the beach!  I still want to have ice cream!  I still want the thrill of the boardwalk!

Friend 2: You still can, you know – those things are around all year long.

Friend 1: Yeah, but not with lifeguards!  Or college-kid-staffed parlors!  Or fireworks!  Or super-long-lines everywhere!

Friend 2: You’re right: some of those’re better this time of year.

Friend 1: You’re no help at all.  It’s also getting too night out too early now.

Friend 2: That, I agree with: I miss sunset being around 9:00 in the evening; now it’s just getting gloomy.

Friend 1: Exactly!  And soon enough, sunset’ll be at 4:30!

Friend 2: Well, by then it’ll be winter so we’ll be hibernating anyway.

Friend 1: Don’t talk to me about winter!  I’m not done slandering autumn yet!

Friend 2: Then by all means, continue.

Friend 1: I’ll switch gears instead: summer means the smell of chlorine, and swimming in tidal waves under teenage supervision, and outdoor concerts, and outdoor dining, and staying up all night long without thought of any consequences, and parties with your friends, and vacation all day long even if you’re not going anywhere, and carefree biking through the neighborhood streets, and living just for the endless day, and, and….

Friend 2: And feeling like a kid again?

Friend 1: (Slows to a stop; Friend 2 does likewise) Is that what this is?

Friend 2: A bit, at least for you – sounds like it’s the one season you can time travel back to when you were happier.

Friend 1: I’m happy now!

Friend 2: I said “happier.”

Friend 1: Oh.  I guess.  Point is, I want it to be summer forever.

Friend 2: (Starts walking again, followed by Friend 1) Well, it can’t: the planet has to continue tilting on its axis back and forth as it orbits the Sun; flora and fauna have evolved to match the seasonal changes throughout the world; and you’ll feel better about everything if you just accept that instead of mentally fighting it all the time.

Friend 1: I guess.  Unless….

Friend 2: What could possibly follow that?

Friend 1: Unless I figure out a way to stop the Earth tilting on its axis and straighten out its elliptical orbit so it’s optimal summer for our part of the world all year, every year, forever and ever, and –

Friend 2: And that’s a supervillain origin story if I ever heard one, you realize that?

Friend 1: Only if I fail!

Friend 2: You can be really bonkers sometimes, I have to say.

Friend 1: (Hastily brushes off several fallen leaves) Maybe, but it’s all in good fun.