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 365: How Time Doth Fly; Or, Now There Is a Story for Every Day of the Year

          (Friend 1 and Friend 2 are sitting on beach chairs in the local park, watching the lake and occasional passers-by as the autumn leaves fall gently around them)

            Friend 1: (Wearing summer clothes and sunglasses) You think the trees missed the memo that there’s no fall season on this planet anymore?

            Friend 2: Probably – I’m just waiting for winter to get completely phased out, but I think that’s got a few more polar vortexes in it before then.

            Friend 1: Huh…. Vortexes or vortices?

            Friend 2: No idea.

            (They sit in companionable silence for a few minutes)

            Friend 1: You know, I think the last real, authentic autumn chill we had – that school’s-starting-summer’s-over-no-more-fun chill – was back when we went to that concert five years ago.

            Friend 2: You mean the Manly Men one?

            Friend 1: Yeppers.

            Friend 2: That was seven years ago.

Friend 1: No it wasn’t, it was… hmmmmm…. (Stares unseeingly into the distance while mentally stretching back across the years)

Friend 2: 2013.

Friend 1: (Shaking head) Nooooo….

Friend 2: (Nodding head) Yesssss….

Friend 1: It wasn’t seven years, that’s the length of a TV series!  I remember it as if it were last year, but I’m being generous and saying five.

Friend 2: (Works on a phone) Then chunks of years must’ve fallen out your ears – look.  (Hands over the phone showing photos from the concert and points at the date) See that?  Time-stamped August 15, 2013.

Friend 1: (Hands back the phone) Lies.

Friend 2: Whatever makes you happy.  (Puts the phone away and settles back in the beach chair to relax)

Friend 1: OK then –

Friend 2: [Sigh] Yes?

Friend 1: How about when you had your appendix taken out?

Friend 2: That’ll be a year in December.

Friend 1: Ha!  Wrong!  I clearly remember it being 90° that day, so it must have been July 2019, which makes it a year and a half in December!

Friend 2: I think I’d know the date when I’ve had one of my internal organs removed.  And it’s been 90° in December for quite some time now.

Friend 1: Oh.  Are you sure North America just hasn’t slid down into the Southern Hemisphere, and no one wants to tell us?

Friend 2: We’d probably have a lot more problems going on if that’d happened.

Friend 1: Gotcha.  (Ponders for a few moments) What about when I was having my job crisis meltdown a while back?  Was that five years ago?

Friend 2: (Thinks for a bit) Yes – it was a little before the latest round of Astral Skirmishes movies had come out.

Friend 1: (Laughs) Oh yeah.  Oh wow, it feels like that whole hullabaloo just started, and now it’s already over and the first movie was released half a decade ago.

Friend 2: Mm-hm.  Before you know it, the 20^th anniversary edition’ll be out and the special effects’ll be upgraded to whatever 3D-V.R.-A.I.-A.R.-whatever is out at that point.

Friend 1: Yeah… oh.

Friend 2: What?

Friend 1: By the time the 20^th anniversary edition comes out, we’ll be in our 50s.

Friend 2: (Calculates the years) Oh yeah – that’s funny.

Friend 1: That’s darned depressing, is what that is.

Friend 2: Oh come on, we’ve been doing the same stuff for nearly a decade now, you think our lives are really going to be that much different just because we’re middle-aged?  By then, 50’ll probably be the new 10!

            Friend 1: I guess, but at that point I’ll have to start wasting more time in doctors’ offices getting more and more tests, and fighting against my own failing stamina, and yelling at insurance companies for prescriptions I’d rather not have to take but need to or I’ll die, and going to more funerals than weddings, and –

Friend 2: I feel like I’ve lost 10 years just having this conversation.

Friend 1: Fine; we’ll go back to enjoying the unseasonable day, then.  (They watch several ducks paddle by on the lake)  Think we’ll even remember this conversation in 10 years?

Friend 2: Knowing my luck, this will be the last memory I ever forget.