Snow-pocalpyse 2.0

Alas, irony abounds, because ever since it happened, I knew the oak tree that gave my house an icy five-ton hug was going to be the focus of my column this month. Not in a look-howtough-we-had-it way but, oddly, in a "Wow, there is no question watching Jason Bourne movies has done nothing to impart upon me any type of crisis response or superhero reflexes."

Writing at my desk, I heard what could only have been a freight train in my living room. No immediate run to the upstairs rooms to fling my son into the safe room, or jumping out of the chair to grab a bat or a firearm. Instead, as the clinkety-clink continued on the porch outside my office and, having grown up in a mid-Atlantic state, I continued to sit at my desk thinking, "Hm, that must have been a pretty big sheet of ice that just slid off my roof." But then the clinkety-clinking continued and I thought I might as well turn on the light to see a lovely wonder of nature on the deck. Lo and behold, there were not delicate Disney-esque shards of ice sparking in the glow of the floodlights but I instead discovered a rather gaudy collection of bricks and shingles.

Walking gingerly among them, the realization that I had been transported from my images of Frozen into a real life scene from Poltergeist, it occurred to me that there were several tons of lumber still perched precariously atop and sticking out of my chimney and roof. Perhaps I and my clearlynot-lightning-quick reflexes might not want to be walking underneath with a flashlight (and a camera). On the plus side, there was great potential for a Wizard of Oz picture of my feet sticking out from under a section of trunk, which might have gone viral.

No idea why there are so many movies associated with the mess in my mind. I suppose for Millennials who haven't seen Poltergeist, think Mind Flayer from Stranger Things.

Hopefully, dear readers, you are amused by or share the same sense that it is often easy to miss or not react to the obvious because it is kind of unthinkable. I've heard ice falling off the roof before so my icy Spidey-sense didn't picture Carol Ann getting sucked out the window quickly enough to see the giant tree doing its thing. But I suppose it also saved me from a brick to the head too. We'll never know.

In any case, I know I will be amused when the contractors are eventually gone and I can re-tell the story a hundred times, then take a selfie with the bill and complain about the cost on social media. I can't wait for the Likes!

Daylight Savings Time

We can thank Benjamin Franklin, among others, who proposed moving clocks forward in the spring and back in the fall. He published an article in 1784 that proposed saving money on candles by rising earlier to use morning sunlight. His idea was pretty much satirical since, without mass transit or communication, or even a standard work day, the 18th century did not thrive much on precise scheduling.

Fast forward to 2023 and remember to move your clocks forward...

Sunday, March 12 at 2 am