Go Home April, You're Drunk

What the backyard at Chez Sarge looked like on the 2nd of April

When in doubt (and the Muse claims to be "snowed in north of Boston") one can always talk about the weather. That applies to just about anywhere on the planet, well, with one exception. Sandy Eggo.

It's always between 600 and 850  in Sandy Eggo. (Fahrenheit, of course, we don't do metric here*.) Of course, that temperature range is based on my own, less than scientific, measurements.

First trip there was a whirlwind tour. The Naviguesser drove me down from Hanford for a quick trip to Shakespeare's and Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery. No doubt you can guess the reason.

At Shakespeare's I met up with Tuna hisself and the Cap'n (as I term him) of HMS Defiant and his lady. There we shared a meal, an adult beverage, and a story or two.  In fact, The Naviguesser and Your Humble Scribe were regaled with tales of "it's never this hot and humid here, this is most unusual." Now those two suspects fellows have spent many a year in Sandy Eggo as part of their duties as officers in the Naval Service of these here United States.

So they would know.

Now the other three times I've been in that fair city the weather was very typical for that town. That is, it was warm, it was gorgeous, and, and...

Why yes, I do like Sandy Eggo. Why do you ask?

The most recent trip saw that 600 temperature. Oh yes, it was also raining. But it was January after all, and January in Southern California beats the heck out of Little Rhody in January.

Or April in Little Rhody for that matter. Which brings me to the point of this tale.

Little Rhody on a Sunday morning in April.

Little Rhody on a Monday afternoon in April.

And again...

Now this is New England, these meteorological events are not unusual and tend to happen from time to time. When I was nobbut a lad still in short pants, this sort of snowstorm was called "poor man's fertilizer." No, really. I don't know why, my maternal grandparents probably could tell me as they did till the soil from time to time. On a small scale mind you but still and all they knew these things.

While bemoaning the ever accumulating white stuff, I glanced out the window atop the north facing battlements at Chez Sarge, where I espied this youngster -

Nope, snow wasn't bothering that wee person at all!

Sigh...

To be young again.

Meanwhile outside of NAS Lemoore at the same time as those photos above...

Yup, 830.

The WSO sent me that photo (while stuck in traffic at the gate, no traffic laws were violated). Fair is fair I suppose. I sent her a couple of those snow photos above.

That's my kid. (Of course, I deserve it...)

As Buck often said, "It's always sumthin'!"





*The metric system was invented by the French during their revolution. I say if you like the metric system you're welcome to their week as well. Ten days long it was, with a single day off (called the décadi). Gee, why didn't the Euros adopt that as well? One wonders...