We’re short timing now for the Mexican Caribbean but old man winter wasn’t going to let us get away from the North Atlantic gales that easy. Just when we thought that spring might be around the corner and we could sit back watching the NHL playoffs while sipping boat drinks and Bohemia’s in our favorite Cancun watering hole, we took a pasting from Mr. Freeze.
Now, we don’t mind a little snow but 12 inches of the white stuff in one sitting is a bit much, even by our standards and our thoughts roam from that next Mexican Caribbean adventure and Isla Hopping, to the snow blowers, shovels and boots instead.
Alas, we’ll suck it up, shovel the walks, and pack the island clothes in the suit cases with the sunglasses and wait for the ride to the airport. All the while sipping Bailey’s Irish Cream and coffee, topped with whipped cream and piping hot.
There’s snow in the wood, snow on the boardwalks and snow on the beaches right now after getting hammered by a vicious storm of sorts that here in South Jersey, we call a Nor’easter. Nor’easter’s are the North Atlantic’s version of winter tropical storms except they pack snow, ice and gale force winds as their calling card and occur regularly enough to keep us on our collective toes. Last night, the Nor’easter left us it’s calling card, it’s reminder that Mother Nature’s the boss, the matter what us mere mortals think, and how many ways us carbon units attempt to control our environs.
The irony of the situation is watching my two Labrador Retreivers, Murphie and Abbie, the two girls laid low while the storm was raging, knew better than to frolic in the new found white stuff until the worst was over, and kept themselves occupied with long winter naps, all the while watching their human masters confound themselves with the snow and storm predictions coming from the local talking heads. This morn, they watched as we shoveled snow, cleaned the trucks off and generally broke our backs fighting an uphill battle, made all the more infernal when the county snow plows leveled our driveway with about three feet of snow in seconds that had taken us hours to remove.
The Lab’s, somehow sensing that the storm was over, then ventured outside, blasting through the snow like kids off on a snow day, checking out this new world that nature had left them, sniffing out old haunts and creating new ones.
What a racket, no worries, no cares, except where that next meal is coming from and the added entertainment of their so called masters making fools of themselves in the snow.
Makes you wonder, just who is the master doesn’t it?
But, we’ve got them beat, so we think, we’re heading to sunny Mexico in a few short days while they’ll be forced to stay with my daughter and son-in-law and their new puppy, the dog we affectionately call the hound from hell.
That’ll teach them.
Signing off from snowy South Jersey at the country cottage…
Dreamed I was an Eskimo, Frozen Wind Began to Blow..