When pigs fly

The old adage “when pigs fly” could apply today, but for a completely different reason. Rather than indicating a nearly impossible event, it could easily describe the stuff flying through the air from this morning’s strong winds. What few leaves I raked out of  the front yard gardens are probably in Canada by now. Empty trash and recycling containers wound up in different locations and sometimes different yards. My house is well sheltered with a side hill and large trees, and I rarely see wind speeds over 15 mph on my anemometer. This morning I saw sustained winds of over 20 mph. I’m sure the unsheltered areas saw wind gusts of nearly 50 mph.  That would be fast enough to get the obnoxious pig in the GEICO commercials airborne. He might need the extra insurance to save his bacon.

My neighbor to the southwest, He Who Yells At Owls, lost two large limbs from his giant silver maple. His displeasure easily carried above the cacophony of chain saws and an industrial wood chipper courtesy of a tree service. Fortunately his house and my chain link fence emerged unscathed. His back yard has a couple of nice divots because the top two inches of ground is soft. I don’t think a standard golf divot tool will fix those holes. I lost several small branches, but none over an inch in diameter, and not enough fallen wood to use my chipper. That comes later this week when I prune the shrubbery. The branches will go on my wood pile. I have a half kitchen cord of wood that will probably last another three years at current consumption. The apple tree I must remove soon will add almost another half cord.

In the meantime, my neighbor to the east is acquiring large amounts of firewood. My guess is he has about three cords of wood split and stacked behind his shed. No doubt the city will eventually tell him to get rid of most or all of it due to ordinance violations. What is curious is their house does not have a fireplace or wood stove, though perhaps one may be installed. We are allowed recreational fires, but not on the order of the Great Chicago Fire.

The winds of change are upon us. After Nature’s unpleasant late April Fool’s joke last Monday dumped over a foot of snow on the northern metro (I was spared and only picked up ½”), the Twin Cities are getting a strong warm front howling through from the south. Three days of slightly above normal temperatures will give way to three slightly below normal days with chances of rain. At least the dreaded four-letter “s” word is not in the forecast. Easter Sunday and Monday may yield badly needed 70° temperature readings, calm to gentle breezes, and an appearance by that curious bright and warm thing in the sky.

Most Christian calendars list this Sunday as Easter. Easter is a time of hope and rebirth. I hope you get a chance to spend this time with your loved ones, that your weather is pleasant, and that you find a rebirth of joy and happiness. Thank you for remembering Lucy last week and for your kind emails and comments.

 

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