Snow in Alabama is as rare here as an honest politician. So when I woke up to a blizzard yesterday morning, I calmly assessed the situation and logically concluded that the world was coming to an end.
Outside, it was colder than the British Royal Family. The wind was blowing harder than Chris Matthews. Snow frosted the world. Ketchup, our cat, who has only seen snow twice in his life, immediately recognized this intruder for what it was — the Beast — and cowered upstairs, so we couldn’t put him out.
Signs of the End were unmistakable. The red blooms of my ‘Crimson Candles’ camellia bowed under the weight of this satanic white blanket.
Grape hyacinths turned into grape Popsicles.
My pink flamingo, intoxicated by his proximity to his hero, the Grump, neglected to fly south for the winter and paid the ultimate price.
Most ominous of all, the Grump’s son left the security and comfort of his computer and Iphone and ventured outside into the evil, white world. I expected him to mount the White Horse of the Apocalypse at any minute.
Would today be the the Grumpy Gardener’s last? Had he offended his readers for the very last time? Would he never again know the pleasure of popping open a Sam Adams or turning off Nancy Grace?
Chastened by the startling turn of events and wanting to put in one last good word for myself while I still had time, I went to church. Only a handful of people occupied the pews. Obviously, the rest were home with their loved ones, barricading themselves inside concrete bunkers with ample supplies of bread, water, toilet paper, and Beast repellent.
Subject of the pastor’s sermon — overcoming fear. I usually accomplish that with a couple of Sam Adams, but with so few people in church, I figured they’d spot me right away, so I resisted the urge.
As the service concluded, I hesitated at the door before walking outside. What devastation would I find? Natural disaster? War? Pestilence? A world with only dial-up?
No, I saw the sun, shining brightly through the clear blue sky. The demonic snow was melting, like the Wicked Witch of the West.
Today, the snow is nothing but a frigid memory. Armageddon averted.
At least, for now. But watch out for the winter of 2012. That’s when we get the Big One. I’m starting to stock our basement with Sam Adams and Beast repellent right now.