Which Is It? December? October?

For grief's sake! It's still October! A tad past the mid of the month. Where's the October weather? This is November weather. What's the hurry? All right, we've surpassed November; we're now into December. I can recall Decembers past when we saw nary a fluff of snow. This is the second, or is it the third day we've had snow flurries. Don't get me wrong, I don't actually mind snow at all. I find it a cheerful sight, it's beautiful, wonderful. In December, January, February - well by March I'm well and truly sick of it, but that's another story altogether. Who needs snow in October?

Mostly because it's too early, it won't stay on the ground, and it's a signal that things are cold and getting colder. Not supposed to be snow in October, I kid you not. A month later, around November 11, on that most solemn of days when we're remembering those who fought in the world wars on our behalf, for freedom and security, then we do occasionally see snow flurries, while a children's choir is singing heartbreakingly at the National Cenotaph. That's forgiveable; nature is crying frigid tears of regret at man's inhumanity to man.

Now it's just nature letting us know who is really in charge. As though we don't already know. But listen, I know it's just a temporary aberration. We haven't even had a bout of Indian Summer yet. And surely we will? It's the season, after all. Besides which, with the too-sad advent of global warming isn't there the slightest chance that we could be gifted with a temporary lapse in the weather hearkening back to late summer if only for a few days?

I need those days, for the moment. I've not yet completed my fall clean-up. Got to cut back the roses, and mound them preparatory to topping them with rose cones. I must empty the garden pots of their soil so they can be stored safely indoors to protect them from winter's ravages. I've got to wrap protective blankets around vulnerable trees and shrubs, and that all takes time. Granted, I've already got the bulk of all that other stuff behind, having filled myriad recyclable bags with garden waste, cut-backs of perennials, yankings of annuals.

I've taken all those ornaments out of the gardens, stored them away for safekeeping, for another season to come when they can be restored to their pride of place in the gardens, winkling back the sun's rays. I've hauled up the tomato cages, the garden stakes aplenty. Even cut back and mounded all the roses and the tree peonies in the back gardens. Hey, I managed to plant the tulips, the narcissus, the scilla, the oriental lilies, and they're right now lapping up all that moisture establishing a hefty, healthy root system before the ground freezes up. They'll surprise us come spring, for I'll have long forgotten that planting exercise by then.

My partner-in-gardening still plans to empty the full composter and sprinkle all that black gold over the garden beds. And he's also got to install all of the garden furniture he's already taken apart into the garden shed and garage - once I remove all the winter blankets, the rose cones, etc., etc.

So give us a break, Nature - bring back some warmer, drier weather. Say two or three days' worth?