Pontificum Scriblerus

There was an unmistakable scent in the air tonight as I walked home; it was the smell of firewood and chimney smoke, just a hint, floating through the nighttime sky and tickling my nostrils. Someone must have lit up their fireplace. Somehow, it reminded me of my childhood, although, I don't know why: I've never had a wood burning fireplace in my life... The air was a bit wet with impending rain, and the first layer of fallen leaves was starting to form under my feet. It's fall again. It's the time of orange, red, yellow, and of reaping what you sow. But some might say fall is sad, because it's the downward side of the proverbial cycle of life; things age and fall apart. Supposedly, it's high time for depressive episodes. So it happens, that apparently, my birthday is the national depression screening day? Isn't that interesting.

Early morning, crisp frosty air... driving to work... Looking out the window at the hospital to see fluffy flakes of white snow doing an energetic polka in the sky... It's the perfect winter day! Except it's OCTOBER! What happened to yellow leaves and the smell of rain and wet asphalt? What happened to lightweight jackets and rosy cheeks? What happened to global warming? Global "WARMING!" Pretty white snowflakes convert into disgusting sloshy grey sleet. That is because snow does not belong in October.

Just a week or two ago, I left for work driving through streets lined with naked trees, and came back home through streets lined with blooming branches. Spring was here! Now, apparently, spring is already over, and it's so fucking hot and dusty outside! Hello, perpetual hot weather migraine!! Someone had the good mind to plant lilac shrubs outside by the garage. They're young, but the flowers are plentiful, and the scent fills the air, especially now that the air is thick with heat. The lilac scent... spells nostalgia for so many things...

Last Friday, we were carpooling to work at around 7 am. It had rained all night, and was promising to be a "yucky" day, and I only use that expressive word on very special occasions. All of a sudden, right on the town line between towns X and Y, the wet trees became icy trees. At the same time, my husband got a phone call from a co-worker who tells him that the power was out in the entire plant, and there will be a shutdown. Once I talked him into not dropping me off in the middle of the road, I allowed myself to unleash moderate amounts of envy at his unexpected day off. But that was just the beginning of a wonderous day, weekend, week. I was rushing that morning because I had a transplant meeting to go to, and it's serious business, especially for me, who suffers from chronic retardiness; everyone shows up super-on-time, and the thing starts on the dot - so imagine my surprise when I get there, punctually for once, and the room is empty. People are trickling in, e...

There is a line above New York city or thereabouts, maybe more like Connecticut state line, that God drew and said, "let there be terrible and confusing weather above this line, especially here in the city of Boston." And we pass our days in suffering. We suffered last week, and the week before, with plagues such as snowfall, and temperatures at which your spit freezes. I wore a sleeping bag to go outside and tried not to breathe. Acceptingly, because I know that by electing to live above the said line, I was electing to endure the consequences. Once in a while the curse is lifted, and we step outside, confused (just like God said), and ask each other, what, pray tell, is this strange golden orb in the sky? I am not familiar with such brightness.... And we rejoice. Today is one of those days. I rejoiced all the way to lunch throwing off my winter robes and squinting at the sky, producing vitamin D left and right. Short-lived joy. Because come 4 pm, the golden orb disappeared ...