I awoke this morning in a quiet and calm mood. Didn’t stay out too late … didn’t have too many beers. I gave my mind a few minutes to discover if there might be any remote quadrant of the body proper which was in a state of relative discomfort. None was to be found.
One of the corners of the auto-pilot wiring of my psyche – one that tends to be, unlike the rest of me, a morning person – speaks up, “Neato!”
My dog, Sparky, had been attempting to sleep at my feet last night. Given the amount of tossing and turning that one tends to experience when sleeping on a not-so-built-for-sleep sofa, she didn’t get much of it.
Jack Russell terriers, if you haven’t noticed, tend to be a bit on the high strung side.
And yeah, I said “sofa” …
Told ya, the bacon thing really isn’t going over very well here at la casa del Buck.
(pics here are almost always of the “click to enlarge” variety)
Anyhow … I let Sparky out to begin her elaborate morning routine of divining the perfect points of evacuation. And with this one, it’s every bit as formulaic as it can possibly get.
Much like the directions on the back of a shampoo bottle except in place of “wash” one places a single word that somehow embodies the intense, almost frenetic, manner in which she goes about intently scrutinizing randomly disjointed spots of grass in search of that Point of Perfection.
Nothing less will do, unless it’s a miserable, rainy day.
Otherwise, she invests a level of energy into this search for that point of perfection that one might expect from a knight in search of uncovering a matter of divine providence!
To wit, she deposits, whether by way of micturation or defecation matters not. And yes, the former, in every case, preceding the latter.
And herein we replace the word “rinse.”
Still with me here?
Yeah, it’s Search, Deposit, Repeat.
But anyhow … I’m getting side-tracked here …
The air was calm and the sky tinted with a colorful hint of a glow from a sunrise surely taking place on the other side of the dark, looming grayness. It clearly felt like snow was soon to come.
I quietly stretched my arms, taking in a deep breath of the crisp, fresh air. As I shook my head in bemusement at Sparky’s frenetic search for said Point of Perfection, a slight breeze picked up. I wrapped my arms around my shoulders and rocked quickly on my bare feet, attempting to only have smaller parts of the foot in contact with the deck — which hadn’t seen temperatures above freezing in days — at any one given moment.
As I turned my back to the wind I looked down and smiled as I watched the first hints of snow dancing past my feet. There is something so soothing and serene about the snow. It brings some strange sense of purity and innocence with it.
But, like much in life, appearances are often little more than a mirage.
The snow, you see, brings a certain ‘something’ out of the animal within us all. Maybe it’s because the snow covers everything, blurring all that we are otherwise accustomed to seeing, yet rarely even noticing, in our day to day lives, and in the sudden absence of that which is familiar there is a resulting sense of panic and potential peril. In the animal world this may happen because the food that birds regularly forage for is usually in plain sight.
Suddenly, everything has changed in an instant and nothing is as it just quite recently was.
How is a bird to know whether or not there may still be anything resembling food beneath this mysterious white veil???
Yes … fear of the unknown and hunger can bring out something downright fiendish in virtually any animal.
And when that fear comes as a result of snow fall, that can only mean one thing …
Well, two … if you really think about it.
Or more …
But in the context of this story, at least at this point within whatever portion of said story is about to unfolded before you, it can only mean one thing!
And you remember what happened the last time we had a deep snow and the ensuing schools of snow sharks that came with it, right?
Yeah, we almost lost Mikey Rez!
And we don’t want that!
Man, I really need to arrange something where you guys can listen to what I’m listening to while I write this! Oh man, that would so thoroughly change things!
But anyhow …
Perhaps you know how drivers are here in the mid-Atlantic region of the U.S. (and it grows increasingly rude and random the further north one drives. Well, to a point) They can be biggest collection of untrained, ignorant, self-centered, feckless morons absolutely devoid of any level of what is known as situational awareness … and with cell phones shoved unhumanly deep inside their ear holes!!!! These people can hardly, if at all, accomplish a feat as simple as parallel parking; well, at least not without undue anxiety and freakishly jerkish miscues that would make Michael J. Fox conducting a symphony look absolutely normal.
But I digress … my point is, “Virginia” drivers really are a difficult breed. I attribute most of that to the transient nature of the D.C. area, but that’s another subject for another blog some other day.
Today we have far more pressing matters to contend with.
Who will save us from the snow shark?
A mere few weeks ago we were beyond safe as we were blessed by a visit from one of the rarest, most severely endangered species of mammal on this planet: the Arctic shaven snow pig!
And … there’s a little something your old uncle Buck here has been keeping from you.
Olga, Leesburg’s own patron swine, flew, non-stop, from the mountains outside of Leesburg all the way to Haiti … did I mention this was NON STOP??? … to volunteer after the tragic earthquake.
Yeah … it doesn’t take a very active imagination to come to grips with what direction that decision ultimately took …
Without our token Arctic shaven snow pig, where then can we turn for salvation from the certain return of the snow sharks?!?!?!
Of course, the answer is simple!
Remember my reference to the local traffic earlier? Well, just the mere mention of precipitation brings out most Neanderthalically idiotic driving tendencies imaginable from these people.
Snow Cow, due to the uncertainty of this weekend’s weather, instead chose to not cut short his stay at some weird hedonistic resort somewhere in the Caribbean …
Come on … are you trying to tell me – with a straight face – that you’d rather deal with gridlock traffic and worse?!?!?!
In this hypothetical question, you’re trying to walk a mile on Snow Cow’s shoe’s, not the ladies’.
You did understand that, right?
All of this to say that I dare say that I very well may not be getting around to finishing my official blog disclaimer today. I’ve yet to check in with work, no less shower, shave, or brush my teeth.
I did, however, accomplish the other earlier; quite obviously … do you think this much chattery and creativity is possible with all of that blockage?
Of COURSE NOT!
All of this to say that you want to keep your eyes open for this man …
Well, D’UHHH … he’s our savior from the snow shark!
Oh, you mean why should we keep our eyes open for him?
Because we want to make sure he is able to approach a snow shark without being the distractions of being engaged in conversation. So, in an effort to make certain he remains undistracted we have to ensure that he basically goes unnoticed … and we do that by keeping an eye out for him and then pretending that we never actually saw him … but yet we can, with a clean conscience, comfort our fellow Spankians with the knowledge that He is in our midst … somewhere.
But make sure to remind anybody that you tell that you saw Him to remember to strictly adhere to the rule that they must keep their eyes open and remember to forget what they saw.
Because the first rule of Snow Cow is that you never talk about Snow Cow.
And we’re not … I’m just blogging … that’s different.
Speaking of which, I really should be going now.
Until next time, remember …
And now …
A Word From Our Sponsor(s) …
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