Last fall, I heard people talking about what a horrible winter we were going to have this year. “Gonna be the coldest one in years.” “Yep, we’re going to pay for all that nice weather we had earlier.” “They say it’s going to be one of the worst ones we’ve had in the last decade.”
Some folks seem to take some sort of perverse pleasure in telling us just how rotten and awful things are or are going to be.
I don’t remember if the predictions were based on the Farmer’s Almanac, the number of fogs we had in August or by counting the sap rings on wooly caterpillars or what. Whatever it was, I’m relieved to say, it hasn’t started yet. Apart from an early cold snap in November, it’s been one of the mildest I remember. That, of course, is subject to change without much notice. In fact, the weather service is predicting single digit lows for at least one night right here in so-southern-it’s-almost-Oklahoma, Kansas, this weekend. An Arctic frigate is set to sail right through these parts on Saturday.
It’ll come and it’ll go. For all I know, it’ll be back up into the fifties on Monday. Whether the weather matters to a wether* probably depends upon whether it’s wearing a weather-proof coat or not. Sheared too close and away from the huddle, even mild weather seems sort of uncomfortable.
That’s pretty much the way life runs for all of us, I suppose. Wearing the right clothes with the right attitude can get you through a lot of things. For the other stuff, a stout faith and a pair of well-worn knees seems to be the key.
*A wether is a neutered male sheep.